










AT HEART A RAKE 



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BY 

FLORENCE MARRYAT 


AUTHOR OF “ THE BEAUTIFUL SOUL,” “ PARSON JONES,” “ LOVE’S 
CONFLICT,” “my sister THE ACTRESS,” “ MY OWN 
CHILD,” “ THERE IS NO DEATH,” ETC., ETC. 


“ Men, some to business, some to pleasure taTce ; 
But every woman is at heart a rake : ” 

— Pope. 


0 


NEW YORK 


JUL ^41895 










THE CASSELL PUBLISHING CO. 


31 East 17TH St. (Union Square) 



Copyright, 1895, by 

THE CASSELL PUBLISHING CO. 


All rights reserved. 




■1 


THE MERSHON COMPANY PRESS, 
RAHWAY, N- »- 


CONTENTS 


CHAPTER 



PAGE 

I. 

The Macnaughtens at Home, 

• « 

I 

II. 

Colonel and Mrs. Bernard, 

• 

15 

III. 

Lord Lisnor’s Family, 

. • 

. 27 

IV. 

Lady Phyllis Discourses on Marriage, . 

39 

V. 

Nell’s Secret Disappointment, 

. 

. 50 

VI. 

Mrs. Bernard Learns How to 

Deceive, . 

65 

VII. 

A Society “At Home,” . 

. 

. 80 

VIII. 

Cissy’s Ears are Boxed, ■ . 

. 

lOI 

IX. 

The Pushahead Club, 

• 

. 116 

X. 

A Conjugal Argument, 


128 

XI. 

The First Link Broken, . 

• • • 

. 140 

XII. 

Captain Austin’s Resolution, 


156 

XIII. 

The Ladies’ Committee, . 

• • • 

. 171 

XIV. 

The Denouement, 


187 

XV. 

Phyllis is Incredulous, . 

• • • 

. 204 

XVI. 

The Separation, . 


213 

XVII. 

The Earl Reasons in Vain, . 


. 230 

XVIII. 

In the Hayfields, 

• • • • 

243 

XIX. 

Nelly’s Lover, .... 



' XX. 

Lady Phyllis Resigns, 

• • • • 

269 

XXI. 

On Board the “ Evaline,” 


. 288 

XXII. 

At the Alhambra, 

• • • • 

29S 

XXIII. 

An Unexpected Visitor, . 

• • 

. 307 

XXIV. 

The Aftermath, . 

iii 


320 





AT HEART A RAKE. 


CHAPTER I. 

THE MACNAUGHTENS AT HOME. 

Mr. Ronald Macnaughten sat opposite to his wife, 
Lady Phyllis Macnaughten, at the dinner table in their 
house in Hill Street, Berkeley Square. He was a hand- 
some, fashionable-looking man of seven-and-twenty, and 
she was one of the acknowledged beauties of the season. 
They possessed youth, wealth, birth, and good looks, and 
yet neither of them seemed happy, nor even contented. 

Lady Phyllis was the fifth daughter of the Earl of 
Lisnor, of Sedgeley Manor, in Hampshire, and Ronald 
Macnaughten had some of the oldest and bluest blood in 
Scotland running in his veins, and was prouder of his 
clansmen than he would have been of claiming lineage 
with the highest title in the United Kingdom. Like most 
men of his nationality, he was exceedingly proud — quick 
to resent an insult, and rather hot-tempered — passionate 
in every way, in fact, but with feelings so deep that, when 
once attracted, they were not easily detached again. He 
was a clever young man, with a power of concentration 
of intellect which would have made him capable of 
achieving great things in one of the learned professions; 
and it was rather a misfortune than otherwise that he had 
inherited so large a fortune from his late father that it 
had not been thought necessary to bring him up to work 
for his living. He had been married to Lady Phyllis for 


2 


AT HEART A RAKE. 


four year-s — theirs had been purely a love match — and 
they had never yet encountered any serious cause for 
disagreement. But, with their abundance of this world’s 
goods, they had not been called upon to do anything 
more than to amuse themselves. 

The room they occupied was sufficient proof of the 
style in which they lived. It was a lofty apartment of 
perhaps forty feet by twenty-five — furnished in the most 
sumptuous manner. The Persian carpet which covered 
the floor was so thick as to break the heaviest footfall — 
the massively carved sideboard was loaded with silver 
and cut glass — the chandelier which hung over the dining 
table, and threw the soft light of wax candles upon the 
various flowers and fruit that adorned it, was of pale 
green Venetian glass. Around the walls were hung paint- 
ings; not too many, but all good of their kind. Con- 
spicuous among them were the portraits of the master 
and mistress of the house, taken on the occasion of their 
marriage, by one of the most celebrated portrait-painters 
of the time. That of Lady Phyllis occupied the place of 
honor on the right side of the mantelpiece. It repre- 
sented her in a white dress, her hands filled with flowers, 
and the smiling, innocent maiden of eighteen seemed to 
gaze wistfully at the juvenile matron of twenty- two as if 
she would ask what had happened to cause so great a 
change in her. Not that Lady Phyllis was any less beau- 
tiful than she had been four years before. On the con- 
trary, marriage and motherhood had only served to ripen 
and enhance her charms. But she looked more serious, 
and she certainly was more silent than had been her 
wont. Mr. Macnaughten, regarding her from the oppo- 
site side of the table, over the silver ^pergne of ferns and 
flowers, wondered listlessly where the difference lay. 
The butler kept offering her wine, and the powdered 
footman handed her delicate dishes in succession. She 
only uttered languidly “No! ” to each one of them. At 
last her husband observed her want of appetite. 

“Are you not going to eat anything to-night?” he said. 

“If ever you took the trouble to look at me,” she 
answered, somewhat pettishly, “you would know that I 
never eat anything at this hour! I hate late dinners!” 


THE MACNAUGHTENS AT HOME. 


3 


“Why? Because I happen to like them?” he said sar- 
castically, as he helped himself a second time to a ragout 
that the servant handed him. 

Lady Phyllis answered nothing. The expression of 
her face, as she gently waved her ostrich fan to and fro, 
indicated that she did not consider his remark worthy of 
a reply. 

Macnaughten looked at her. She was lovelier than 
usual, if possible, that evening, attired in a robe of the 
palest pink crape, trimmed with marabout feathers of the 
same tint as her fan. 

“You look very ‘fit.’ Are we going out again to- 
night?” he inquired, as his eyes were bent admiringly 
on her. 

“I have a box for the Gaiety. But perhaps you have 
made other plans. If so, pray don’t let mine interfere 
with them. I can look after myself perfectly well. My 
cousin will meet me at the theater.” 

“I shall accompany you,” he replied indifferently. 
There was a silence between them of some minutes after 
that, broken by himself. 

“ Have you had any callers to-day, Phyllis?” 

“No one of any consequence. Mrs. Pryce and Captain 
Nelson, and Lady Salcott, and — and — Percy Sefton.” 

“ Lord Percy Sefton appears to be a standing dish 
in this establishment,” said Mr. Macnaughten, with a 
frown. “ Couldn’t you make him understand that a little 
of him goes a long way? ” 

“ What! when he’s my own cousin? That would be 
extremely polite! It may be the fashion in Scotland to 
give people broad hints to make themselves scarce, but 
we are not quite so barbaric in England.” 

“It’s politer than kicking them out,” remarked Mac- 
naughten significantly. “Why, Sefton is here almost 
every day. How you can stand the conversation of such 
an idiot beats me! He can talk nothing but himself.” 

“Well! you can hardly expect me to sit at home all the 
afternoon and receive no one,” retorted his wife. “You 
don’t take much pains to amuse me yourself.” 

“The time is past when I had the power to do so.” 

“Had you ever the power?” she asked, in an aggra- 


4 


AT HEART A RAKE. 


vating manner. “It isn’t every clever man that can 
make himself amusing. It requires a particular tact, a 
knowledge of men and women which you hftve never 
taken the trouble to acquire.” 

“ You should rather say, a stock of small gossip — an 
impertinent curiosity about matters that concern no one 
but the persons interested in them — a power of magnify- 
ing every molehill into a mountain for the benefit of the 
idle and inquisitive. You are right, Phyllis. I have 
never taken the trouble to acquire so mean a virtue and 
I never shall.” 

“And are not, in consequence, amusing,” said Lady 
Phyllis, as she rose from the table and left the room to 
assume her mantle and wraps. 

Macnaughten sat where she left him, thoughtful and 
introspective! What was it that had come into their 
lives ? He could recall the tim-e when they had been 
foolishly unhappy when separated, if only for a little 
while — when they had counted the hours spent apart, and 
flown into each other’s arms with rapture as soon as 
reunited. He could remember when their passionate, 
overwhelming love had kept them awake at night, count- 
ing the moments till they should meet again — and now, 
it seemed as if parting would be rather a relief than 
otherwise to both of them. What a little chatterbox 
Phyllis used to be in the first months of their married 
life. She seemed never weary of telling him her thoughts 
and ideas on all sorts of subjects, and now she scarcely 
opened her mouth when they were alone together, and 
grew impatient if he talked to her. And yet she was an 
unusually animated woman in society, rather celebrated 
for her brilliant repartees and the bright, witty manner 
in which she related anything for the benefit of her audi- 
ence; a woman who could amuse a stranger for a whole 
evening and inspire him with the utmost admiration for 
her physical and mental charms. How was it ? How 
had the change come about ? 

Not that Ronald Macnaughten suspected his wife of 
caring for any man more than for himself. He was a 
true and faithful husband to her, and it is only faithless 
husbands — those who know what they are to other men’s 


THE MACNAUGHTENS AT HOME. 


5 


wives — who stoop to suspect their own. But the gloss 
seemed to be wearing off their married life, and he did 
not hold himself entirely guiltless in the matter. He, 
too, often felt the same sense of dullness and ennui that 
Phyllis seemed to feel, and enjoyed an evening spent 
with his friends far more than those at home. He was 
conscious that Mrs. Leyton’s singing appealed to him 
more than that of his wife (though there was a time when 
he considered Lady Phyllis’ voice the sweetest he had 
ever heard), and that he felt livelier and better able to 
talk in any company but hers. How was it ? Whence 
had it come ? He had loved her passionately, and he 
told himself that he loved her passionately still ; and yet 
he was happier away — with his own sex in the shooting 
field or the smoking concert, or with the other in a draw- 
ing room or the box of a theater. These thoughts made 
his handsome face look harassed and careworn, and the 
light way in which Phyllis had taken lately to speaking 
of acts of feminine carelessness and folly at which for- 
merly she would have shuddered, troubled him still more. 
Surely, surely — she could never arrive at the pitch of 
approving of the fast manners and appearance of some of 
the women of the present day — of upholding them in their 
acts of rebellion and attempts to procure an unseemly 
liberty. And then Macnaughten thought that perhaps 
that little fool Percy Sefton encouraged Phyllis in these 
absurd ideas, and he ground his teeth in consequence. 

At that juncture his wife re-entered the room. She 
was looking lovely — a wife of whom any man might have 
been proud — yet Macnaughten put her cloak about her 
snowy shoulders without a compliment or a caress. He 
had given her so many caresses which she had neither 
returned nor seemed to appreciate; and, to tell the truth, 
he was becoming a little tired of kissing her himself. 
Half the charm of a kiss lies in the pleasure it is supposed 
to bestow, and though the French say there is always 
one who kisses and one who holds out the cheek, the man 
is a fool who goes on kissing under the circumstances. 
But there was one thing which Mr. Macnaughten evi- 
dently did miss, for he asked presently : 

“ Where is Roy ? ” 


6 


AT HEART A RAKE. 


‘‘Upstairs, with Reynolds,” replied Lady Phyllis care- 
lessly. “ Do you wish to see him ? ” 

“Why, of course I wish to see him ! Do I ever go 
out without saying good-night to my little boy ? ” 

“/said good-night to him upstairs,” replied Lady 
Phyllis ; “but, if you wish to see him, you must ring the 
nursery bell. Be quick though, for the carriage has been 
standing at the door for some time.” 

“Oh, d the carriage!” exclaimed Macnaughten, 

as he pulled the bell furiously and ordered his son and 
heir to be brought downstairs at once. 

Little Roy, now three years old, quite justified the pride 
taken in him by both his young parents. As he burst 
into the dining room, in his embroidered frock, with a 
sash of the Macnaughten plaid tied round his waist, his 
father caught him up in an ecstasy of delight. The baby 
had his mother’s loveliness combined with his father’s 
strength, and was a very beautiful specimen of childhood. 
Reynolds, the head nurse, who appeared immediately in 
his wake, was almost as proud of her charge as his parents 
were, and spent all her time in arranging his love-locks 
and decking his little person. Had Master Roy Mac- 
naughten been heir to the throne of England, he could 
not have been more worshiped or looked after. His 
immediate presence even seemed to draw the hearts of 
his young father and mother closer together, for, as the 
child stretched out his arms toward Lady Phyllis, ex- 
claiming, “Pretty ma-ma 1” Macnaughten stretched his 
head also toward that of his wife, and echoing the baby’s 
cry of “Pretty ma-ma!” kissed her on the cheek, an 
attention at which, for a wonder, she smiled. But the 
carriage was waiting for them, so, with many kisses and 
grasping a bunch of raisins in one hand and a candied 
orange in the other. Master Roy was dismissed back to 
his nursery. 

“How he grows!” remarked Macnaughten, as he 
ensconced himself by the side of his wife in the satin- 
lined brougham ; “I think the child is handsomer every 
time I see him.” 

“ Yes ; but you will ruin his stomach giving him those 
indigestible candies to eat. I’ve told you of it hundreds 


THE MACHA UGH TENS AT HOME. 7 

of times ; but you men are all so selfish. Your love con- 
sists in gratifying yourselves, at whatever cost to the 
creature you profess to love.” 

I wouldn’t harm my little Roy for all the world ! ” 
said Macnaughten dubiously. Lady Phyllis seemed to 
have returned to her former mood, and did not speak 
another word until they arrived at the theater. The bur- 
lesque was screamingly funny, and the artists were in their 
happiest moods. Yet Lady Phyllis Macnaughten looked 
utterly bored, and indifferent to what was going on before 
her. Once or twice her husband, who really enjoyed it, 
turned to her for an answering laugh, and then she would 
force a smile and say, “Very funny; isn’t it, Ronald?” 
and relapse again into boredom. 

At last her eyes sparkled, as she caught sight of some 
acquaintances in the stalls. 

“There are the Levisons ! Don’t you see them in the 
third row of the stalls ? Do go and ask them to come up 
here, Ronald ; I haven’t seen Mrs. Levison for an age.” 

“What on earth do you want to see her for — that fat, 
vulgar old Jewess ! I should have thought that the very 
sight of her would have made you run a mile the other 
way.” 

“We don’t think together, you see. As it happens, 
Mrs. Levison is one of the most amusing women I meet. 
She knows everybody and everything. It is quite a treat 
to hear her talk. Are you going to do as I ask you or 
not ? If it is too much trouble to go downstairs for me, 
I will send a waiter.” 

“Well, wait till this act’s over. Not even for that 
delightful creature, Mrs. Levison, can I miss this dance 
of Letty Lind’s.” 

Before the act had ended, however, Ronald Mac- 
naughten’s bete noir., Lord Percy Sefton, had entered the 
box and established himself behind his cousin’s chair. 
This little gentleman had positively nothing to recom- 
mend him except the fact of being a lord ; so he made 
as much of it as he could, and had consequently gained 
the reputation of being “a bit of a cad ” among his own 
sex. He was but a midget of a man, standing about five 
feet nothing in his stockings, but he talked as if he were 


8 


AT HEART A RAKE. 


six feet high. He took his success with the fair sex as a 
matter of course, while they used to say that it didn’t 
signify what familiarities one allowed to Lord Percy, 
because he was so small. This is a common error with 
women, who often end by learning that small knives can 
cut as well as large ones. Lord Percy naturally made 
much of his relationship to Lady Phyllis, and many men 
envied him the privileges of cousinship with so beautiful 
a woman. Even her husband, though weary of her him- 
self, watched the bright eyes and increased color with 
which she welcomed Lord Percy’s advent with jealous 
gloom, as he tried to catch the import of their con- 
versation. 

Lady Phyllis, who had sat and gazed at the broad com- 
edy enacting before her with solemn eyes and closed lips, 
now began to smile at everything, even to laugh at the 
jokes, and chattered as freely as she knew how. It was 
evidently her husband who bored her — not the burlesque 
nor the artists who interpreted it. So thought Ronald 
Macnaughten, as he retreated to the back of the box, 
and ceased, in his turn, to find amusement in the scene 
before him. 

As the act ended, he addressed his wife : 

“ Do you wish me to give your message to Mrs. Levison 
now, Phyllis ? ” 

She turned her animated face toward him. How sweet 
she looked when she smiled and showed her charming 
little white teeth ! 

Oh, no, thank you ! I had forgotten all about them. 
They would fill up the box too much. Mrs. Levison 
takes the place of two ; doesn’t she, Percy ? But lend me 
your lorgnette for a minute, Ronald. There is such a 
lovely diamond necklace in the stage-box opposite. I 
can see it flashing like electricity from over here.” 

But just as she was about to adjust the glasses to suit 
her sight the door of their box opened to admit an 
intimate friend of theirs — Mr. Dalgairns, a barrister, 
who was also a well-known critic and journalist. He 
shook hands cordially with both Macnaughten and his 
wife, nodded to Lord Percy Sefton, and made a few re- 
marks on the show they were witnessing. 


THE MACNAUGHTENS AT HOME. 


9 


“ Wonderful little woman, Letty Lind ! There’ll 
never be another like her when she is gone. All life and 
movement, like an electric eel. That woman will dance 
in her coffin.” 

“What a grewsome idea!” cried Lady Phyllis. 
“ Surely, Mr. Dalgairns, you will allow her to have a 
little rest then ! She will want it, poor thing ! ” 

“ Do women ever require rest ?” demanded Dalgairns 
cynically. “ They are the very perfection of unrest, to 
my idea. Always scheming to upset themselves or some- 
body else. What they will arrive at, at last, the Lord 
who made them only knows ! Have you read this new 
monstrosity in the shape of feminine literature, ‘ The 
Revolt of the Harem ’ ? ” 

“ No,” replied Lady Phyllis. 

“ Then my advice to you is. Don’t ! ” 

“ Why ? Is it so bad, Mr. Dalgairns ? ” 

“It is far worse than ‘bad’ ; it is foully improper 
and indecent. We London men and women are, unfor- 
tunately, but too well acquainted with badness, — it sur- 
rounds us in every shape and form, — but reveling in inde- 
cency is an amusement which, thank God, Englishwomen 
have still to learn to relish ! ‘ The Revolt of the 

Harem ’ is not clever, except in a very crude way ; it is 
neither well constructed nor well written ; it is simply 
indecent. For that reason it will claim many readers, 
but not one who will be any the better for perusing it.” 

“How very horrible !” said Lady Phyllis. “Who is 
the author ?” 

“A woman, of course. No man would have ventured 
to touch such subjects out of a medical work. She calls 
herself Emma Noble. I do not know if the name is as- 
sumed or not. No one does ; Miss Noble being unknown 
to fame, excepting as having published the most disgust- 
ing novel of the season.” 

“ By Jove ! ” exclaimed Lord Percy, “ I must get that 
book.” 

“Do,” replied Mr. Dalgairns. “It will just suit you. 
Lord Percy. It may not be able to teach you much, but 
it will doubtless recall several spicy reminiscences of your 
own career.” 


TO 


AT HEART A RAKE. 


Teach me much? Well, I should think it would be 
a clever book that could do that ; eh, Dalgairns ? I 
meant I should get it to laugh at. By Jove ! fancy a 
woman having the audacity to set up to teach anything 
to us men ! ” 

“Now, be careful what you say about women, Percy. 
Remember, I am present,” exclaimed Lady Phyllis, 
laughing. 

Her cousin stooped over her chair and whispered some- 
thing in her ear. Macnaughten could not catch the 
words, but he saw his wife grow crimson, and guessed 
that it was either a compliment or an equivocal remark 
that had so affected her. But he had no time to do more 
than notice it. Dalgairns was speaking to him again. 

“What utter fools women are beginning to make of 
themselves,” he said confidentially, at the back of the 
box. “Not content with their clubs and their colleges, 
they have now begun to try and rival the men in cricket- 
ing and golfing and cycling.” 

“ Impossible ! ” said Macnaughten. “ No gentlewomen 
would attempt such things.” 

“I cannot answer for their being gentlewomen,” re- 
plied his friend ; “but I know that they attempt them. 
Are you acquainted with any of the members of the 
Pushahead Club ? ” 

“No.” 

“Well, my boy, until you are, don’t venture to pass 
an opinion on the subject. A glance into that sanctuary 
■would make you open your eyes. I tell you that women 
have lost their heads. They are turning everything 
upside down. In a few years there will be no women 
left. All the sweet, soft, lovable creatures, in whom we 
took so great a pride, will have been swept off the face 
of the earth, and in their stead we shall have a race of 
rivals — volunteering, footballing, swearing, and drinking 
bipeds, who are neither ‘flesh, fowl, nor good red 
herrin’.’” 

“Well! thank God, my wife is not that sort of 
woman 1 If she were, I should get a separation from 
her at once ! ” 

“ No ! Lady Phillis does not seem that sort, and you 


THE MACNAUGHTENS AT HOME. 


II 


may well thank God for it ! Keep her as she is, man — 
and don’t let her become acquainted with any of these 
she-men. They would only spoil her. This book now, 
of which I was speaking — which I have had the delight- 
ful task of reviewing and cutting up to the best of my 
ability — get it and read it if you wish to be enlightened 
as to what women want in these days. It is beastly — that’s 
the only name for it — ^"not fit for any decent woman to 
look at ! ” 

By this time the burlesque was drawing to a close, and 
Lady Phyllis again elevated her lorgnette to have a look 
at the diamond necklace opposite. However many 
diamonds women may possess of their own, they are 
never tired of looking at those of someone else, in the 
hope, perhaps, of discovering that they are the inferior 
of the two. But as Lady Phyllis adjusted the glasses, 
and looked through them, she gave a little scream of 
surprise. 

“ It is — I am sure it is — Cissy Brandon, who was at 
school with me at Brighton. But can it be ? How 
altered she seems ! She looks older than I do, at least I 
think so, and she is two years younger. Do look at her, 
Percy ” — handing the lorgnettes to her cousin — “ that 
girl in the white dress, with an oldish man — her father, 
perhaps; but I believe, now I come to think of it, that 
her mother was a widow. What do you think of her ? ” 
glancing at Lord Percy anxiously, as if he were the 
oracle of Delphi itself. 

“Not bad,” was his lordship’s verdict; “wants fat- 
tening — ought to cover up those salt cellars, you know — 
face, pretty, but too dark for my taste, and rather com- 
monplace. Don’t think much of her — no style,” he 
concluded, as he put down the glasses, with an air of 
having wasted his time. 

“Give them to me,” exclaimed Lady Phyllis eagerly, 
“I want to look at her again to make sure. Oh, it « 
Cissy ! it must be ! She was such a dear little thing at 
school — so good-natured, and my especial chum. I long 
to meet her again. How can I let her know I am here, 
Percy ? I wouldn’t miss seeing her, now I have found 
her, for all the world.” 


12 


AT HEART A RAKE, 


easy enough,” replied his lordship. “Write 
a message on your playbill, and I’ll take it round to 
her box.” 

“But suppose it shouldn’t be Cissy, after all,” sug- 
gested Lady Phillis. “ I haven’t seen her for nearly six 
years, you know ! And yet, it is so exactly like her! ” 

“Oh, risk it!” said her cousin, with the most perfect 
nonchalance, “ she can’t be affronted, you know — must 
take it as a compliment. Anyway I’ll find out the truth 
and put your mind at rest, so give me the note ! ” 

“It’s a fearful scrawl,” said Lady Phyllis, laughing, as 
she delivered over the twisted-up morsel of playbill, 
“but Cissy will excuse it ! ” Then, as Lord Percy left 
the box, she looked round at her husband and saw he 
was alone. 

“Where is Mr. Dalgairns?” she asked. “Has he 
gone ? ” 

“You did not offer him much inducement to stay,” 
replied Macnaughten, “considering that you did not 
address half a dozen words to him while he was here. 
I don’t admire your taste in preferring the vapid con- 
versation of a fool like Sefton to that of a clever man 
like Dalgairns.” 

“One doesn’t come to the theater to be talked to, or 
at — which is more in Mr. Dalgairns’ style — cleverly, but 
to see the piece. Besides, with you for a listener, he 
doubtless did not want to waste his cleverness on me. 
He doubtless did not consider me worthy of it.” 

“You are right, there,” retorted Macnaughten. “I 
don’t think any man could despise women more than 
Dalgairns does. He cannot say enough against them, 
for their folly and pigheadedness.” 

“Much obliged to him, I’m sure! I return thanks 
for the sex,” replied his wife. 

“He says, at the rate they are going on now, we shall 
soon have no lovable women left, and, as a natural con- 
sequence, no marriages.” 

“Mercy! what a loss!” cried Lady Phyllis. “Then 
we shall have got our own way, indeed! ” 

“What folly it is to talk like this! What would 
women do without men ? They would be lost without 


THE MACNAUGHTENS AT HOME. 13 

them — besides there must be marriages, or the race 
would end.” 

“I shouldn’t call that a misfortune — at least on our 
side! ” exclaimed Lady Phyllis. 

“You would advise your sex, then, to relinquish all the 
delights of love and motherhood, for the sake of what 
— working for themselves and by themselves — instead of 
finding all the comforts of life provided for them ?” 

“ Oh, for Heaven’s sake, don’t let’s have an argument 
on the subject!” said Lady Phyllis peevishly. “Here 
is Percy come back with my message. Well, is it 
Cissy ? ” she continued, as her cousin re-entered the box. 

“Yes, you are right; but the lady is no longer Miss 
Brandon, but Mrs. Bernard. The gentleman with her, 
who, you thought, might be her father, turns out to be 
her husband — Colonel Bernard. She is delighted at the 
prospect of meeting you again, and says that as soon as 
the piece is over her husband will bring her round to 
your box, if you will wait for her.” 

“Of course I will. Did you tell her my name? 1 
suppose she knows I have been martyrized as well as hen 
self, and am no longer Phyllis Powell ? ” 

“Yes, I made that plain also. She’s really not so 
bad upon a nearer inspection. Brown as a berry, but 
with pretty little features. I fancy I shall like her. 
She has a winning little way,” said Lord Percy, as he 
attempted to pull his half inch of flaxen mustache. 

The expression which Lady Phyllis had used in speak, 
ing of her marriage, “martyrized,” had irritated Ronald 
Macnaughten’s already wounded spirit. Things appear 
so different to us at dilferent times. Words that we 
should think nothing of at ordinary moments strike us 
with bearing a sinister meaning at extraordinary ones. 
So the word, “martyrized,” now fanned the flame which 
had been smoldering all the evening in Macnaughten’s 
breast, and induced him to pay his wife back in her own 
coin of neglect. 

“ As your friends are coming round to see you, Phyllis, 
and may keep you some time,” he said, “and you have 
your cousin to put you safely into the carriage, I will 
leave you in his care, as I have an appointment.” 


14 


AT HEART A RAKE. 


Macnaughten had slipped on his overcoat and was 
about to leave the box when Lady Phyllis turned round 
and asked him quickly : 

‘‘ Where are you going ? ” 

' ‘‘Is that of any consequence to you?” he answered, 
smiling. “ But if you particularly wish to know, I am go- 
ing to smoke a pipe with Leyton.”^ 

“I might have guessed that without asking you,” she 
returned, with something very like a sneer. 

“ Then it’s a pity you delayed me to put an unnecessary 
question,” he replied. “ Good-night ! ” 

“You won’t see hbn till to-morrow morning,” was 
Lord Percy’s consolatory remark, as Macnaughten dis- 
appeared. 

Lady Phyllis felt an unaccountable sinking at her heart 
as she realized that her husband would not accompany 
her home ; but in another minute Colonel and Mrs. Ber- 
nard tapped at the door for admittance, and she had time 
to think of nothing except her new-found acquaintances. 


CHAPTER II. 


COLONEL AND MRS. BERNARD. 

Cecilia Brandon had been a weak, frivolous, good- 
natured schoolgirl, and Cecilia Bernard had not altered 
in any particular. She was an attractive little person, 
with large dark eyes, a mop of curly hair, infantine 
features, a small rosy mouth ; and a slender figure, with 
tiny hands and feet. She rushed at Lady Phyllis just as 
she had been used to do when they met after the holidays 
at Brighton ; without a thought for the difference that 
sijc years might have made in her former friend’s feelings 
for her. Lady Phyllis, however, seemed quite delighted 
to meet her again, while Colonel Bernard, a fine soldierly 
man, thirty years the senior of his wife, stood looking on 
with a smile that showed all his teeth. 

“ Oh, Phyllis ! ” cried Mrs. Bernard, with an effusive 
demonstration of affection, “ I am so charmed to meet 
you again ! I was just saying to my husband that there 
was not a soul in the house whom I knew, when your 
cousin brought me your delightful note. Oh ! by the 
way, let me introduce my husband. Colonel Bernard. 
He has heard about you and Helen often enough, for I 
have told him all about the school at Brighton. By the 
by, how is Lady Helen, and is she married, too ? ” 

“No, Cissy ; none of us are married, except myself. 
Isn’t it awful ; five of them still at home. But we must 
not lose sight of each other again — you will come and see 
me, won’t you, dear ? My address is loo Hill Street, 
Berkeley Square, and I am always at home on Thursdays. 
You will be sure to come.” 

“In Hill Street ; how delightful ! ” exclaimed Cissy ; 
“ I wish we lived there, but we are obliged to put up 
with Bayswater. Such a horrid place, Phyllis ! You 


15 


i6 


AT HEART A RAKE. 


would hate it as I do. The pavements are all dust in 
summer and all mud in winter. But we can’t afford 
anything better. I expect you are much richer than 
we are.” 

“Come, Cissy,” interposed Colonel Bernard; “you 
know you could not live without Whiteley’s. You would 
have nowhere to spend your afternoons. 

“What nonsense!” said Cissy sharply and a little 
irreverently. “I only go there because there is nothing 
better to do. You know how often I have asked you 
to live further west, but you won’t take the trouble to 
move.” 

“ There are other obstacles besides the trouble,” re- 
plied the colonel quietly. 

“But how strange that we should have met,” con- 
tinued his wife to Lady Phyllis, “both of us at the same 
theater on the same night ! It is quite a coincidence.” 

“Well, considering we both live in London, the curious 
thing to me is. Cissy, that we should not have met before, 
in the Park, or somewhere,” said Phyllis. 

“Ah ! but we scarcely ever go to the Park, it is so far 
off — quite a walk from our house to the Kensington 
Gardens. I don’t suppose you will ever find your way 
to us.” . 

“Oh, yes ! I will. I promise you.” 

“And where is your husband, dear?” inquired Mrs. 
Bernard inquisitively. “I thought I saw several gentle- 
men in your box. Is he young and good-looking ? Has 
he any profession ? And have you been married long ?” 

“What a lot of questions. Cissy I ” said Lady Phyllis, 
laughing. “You are just the same as ever. Do you re- 
member that we always called you ‘ Miss Why ’ at school? 
My husband, Mr. Macnaughten, is quite young — twenty- 
six last birthday — and considered good-looking. But he 
has no profession, worse luck ! A man who sits in your 
pocket all day, which becomes somewhat of a nuisance. 
What was the next question ? Oh ! where is he ? Well, 
my dear, not being so gallant as the colonel, he has, what 
is popularly termed, ‘ sloped ’ — gone off to fulfill some 
engagement of his own — and left my cousin. Lord Percy 
Sefton, to see me safely home.” 


COLONEL AND MRS. BERNARD. 17 

“And has that vexed you ?” asked Mrs. Bernard, with 
the want of perspicuity peculiar to her temperament. 

Lady Phyllis flushed up to her eyes. 

Vexed me! My dear Cissy, what an idea! Why, 
we’ve been married for four years. It would be rather 
funny if I could not spare him on occasions now. When 
you’ve been married as long, you’ll find it rather a relief 
than otherwise.” 

“I trust not,” interposed Colonel Bernard, who was 
one of those old-fashioned people who take everything 
that is said au grand sirieux. 

“Four years!” echoed Cissy, with wide-open eyes; 
“it is impossible! Why, you don’t look a day older 
than you did at Brighton.” 

“ Indeed, it is quite possible,” reiterated Lady Phyllis; 
“ my little boy is three years old.” 

“A little boy, too ! ” ejaculated her friend, as if she had 
never before heard of little boys in conjunction with 
marriage. “ How wonderful ! Oh, I long to see him ! 
When may I come and call on you, Phyllis ? ” 

“ Any day you like, dear, but you will always find me 
at home on Thursday afternoons. Percy, write down 
Mrs. Bernard’s address on your cuff for me. What is it. 
Cissy — 33 Moseley Gardens, Bayswater ? I will send 
you a card to-morrow, so that you may not forget. And 
if you and Colonel Bernard would come and dine some 
evening with Mr. Macnaughten and myself, we shall be 
so very happy to see you.” 

“Oh, thank you, dear! You will go, won’t you, 
Henry?” said Mrs. Bernard, appealing to her husband, 
and then, in an audible aside to Phyllis, she continued, 
“ It is such a trouble to get him to go anywhere. He 
cares for nothing but his club.” 

“ Now, Cissy, don’t take away my character, or make 
Lady Phyllis think I am a bear,” said the colonel. “I 
shall be only too proud to accept her kind invitation, 
whenever it may be proffered.” 

“Then that is a bargain. Colonel Bernard,” replied 
Phyllis, smiling, “and I shall keep you to your word. 
And as for my dear Cissy here, I shall hope to see a great 
deal of her in the future.” 


i8 


AT HEART A RAKE. 


And as she concluded Lady Phyllis kissed Mrs. Ber- 
nard again, and they all proceeded down the corridor of 
the theater together. At the entrance to the ladies’ 
cloakroom Mrs. Bernard paused with a piteous look, 
half shame and half entreaty^ on her face. 

“I am afraid I must go in here for a minute, Phillis. 
You see we are not so fortunate as you are. We are 
obliged to come to the theater in a cab, and I left my 
wraps in here.” 

Lady Phyllis Macnaughten, to whom the possession of 
a carriage had lost all its novelty, saw nothing peculiar 
in what Mrs. Bernard was ashamed to confess. 

“ Oh, of course ! ” she replied, as she stopped to give 
her friend time to get her opera hood. “I wish I could 
have offered to take you and the colonel home. Cissy, 
but, unfortunately, I have only the night brougham this 
evening, and I must drop my cousin at his chambers.” 

“ Oh, don’t mention it, Phyllis,” replied Mrs. Bernard, 
“of course we never thought of such a thing, but it is 
very good of you to say so.” 

She took her husband’s arm and followed in the wake 
of Lady Phyllis and Lord Percy, and stood watching 
them at the theater door as they entered a neat, dark- 
colored brougham, drawn by a high-stepping bay horse, 
and drove away, bowing and waving their hands. 

“ How happy she must be !” said Cissy, with a deep- 
drawn sigh. “She talked of the ‘night brougham,’ and 
so I suppose she must have two or three carriages to 
choose from.” 

“Why, naturally,” replied the colonel. “Her hus- 
band, Mr. Macnaughten, is one of the richest men in 
London. I have no doubt that Lady Phyllis has more 
carriages and horses in town and country than she can 
use. But a cab, after all, answers all the purposes, and 
I don’t know anything pleasanter than bowling home in 
a hansom.” 

“ It’s all very well to talk,” rejoined Cissy, pouting, 
“ but we don’t even have the luxury of a cab every day.” 

“ Then let us make the most of it while we do,” said 
the colonel, as he put her in a hansom and told the 
driver where to take them. 


COLONEL AND MRS. BERNARD. 


19 


Meanwhile Lady Phyllis, for the short time that inter- 
vened before she deposited Lord Percy at his rooms in 
the Albany, could talk of nothing but the unexpected 
meeting with her old friend. Was Cissy not sweet ? was 
she not espiegle ? had she not a Je ne sais quoi about her 
different from other women ? She had always thought 
her one of the most charming, naive.^ quaint little 
creatures in the world, and was quite delighted at having 
fallen in with her again. 

Lord Percy did not wax very enthusiastic over the 
new “find." He did not consider that Mrs. Bernard 
possessed any real beauty — she was only quaint looking, 
as Phyllis had observed. Then, as to her naivete., he 
would wager anything his cousin chose to lay that Mrs. 
Bernard knew a great deal more than she did, and as for 
the poor old colonel, he pitied him from the bottom of 
his heart. 

Lady Phyllis was quite offended by his dictum. 

“ I shall not come to you for an opinion of my friends 
again," she said. “ You are like all the rest of the young 
men nowadays — blasi with dissipation and dissipated 
company, until you have no power of discerning a good 
woman from a bad one. You have lost your taste for 
purity and innocence and refinement. If a woman has 
not effrontery you call her mawkish and insipid. I am 
disgusted with the whole lot of you." 

“But, excuse me, my fair cousin, I never even hinted 
that Mrs. Bernard was either mawkish or insipid. I 
don’t think she’s clever, but I’m sure she’s ‘ up to snuff.’ ’’ 

“ How insufferably vulgar ! ” remarked Lady Phyllis. 

“Nevertheless, it’s true. We men are seldom de- 
ceived in a woman’s character. Your friend is very 
gushing, I allow, but — well, I don’t envy the old colonel, 
all the same." 

“Your conceit of your own opinion is beyond every- 
thing," retorted Lady Phyllis, as the brougham stopped 
at the entrance of Lord Percy’s chambers. 

“Good-night !’’ he called out cheerily, as he put his 
latchkey in the door. But she vouchsafed him no 
answer. The word “ Home," addressed to the footman, 
was the only farewell he received. 


20 


AT HEART A RAKE, 


As Lady Phyllis entered her own house, she passed 
swiftly upstairs to her bedroom. 

‘‘You need not wait up for your master. He will be 
late,” she said to the butler, who let her in. And she 
dismissed her maid almost as cursorily. 

“I am tired to-night, Louise. I will not stay to have 
my hair brushed. Give me my dressing gown and go to 
bed. I shall sit up and read a little.” 

And she flung herself upon a couch, with a volume in 
her hand. But as soon as Louise’s footsteps had died 
away in the corridor. Lady Phyllis threw her book upon 
the floor, and turning her face round on the sofa cushions, 
burst into a flood of tears. 

And so, half an hour afterward, her husband found her. 
Perturbed in spirit and with a restless anxiety upon him, 
for which he was unable to account, Ronald Macnaughten 
had thought that a smoke and talk with his old friend. 
Jack Leyton, might have a soothing effect upon him. 
Dr. Leyton, who was a clever physician, with a rapidly 
rising reputation, was always “Jack” to Macnaughten, 
who had been at college with him, though considerably 
his junior. Dr. Leyton’s profession naturally prevented 
his mixing in much gayety — even such sober festivals as 
dinner parties being seldom within his reach — and so 
Macnaughten was more in the habit of visiting at the 
Leytons’ house, than they were of returning the compli- 
ment. The doctor was now, perhaps, five or six and 
thirty, his wife a few years younger, and both of them 
giving what attention could be spared — the one from his 
profession, the other from her household duties — to the 
rearing and education of their four children, 

Mrs. Leyton was the last woman in the world to give 
any reasonable wife a moment’s uneasiness, but jealousy 
is never reasonable. She possessed a fine voice, which 
had been thoroughly cultivated, so that her singing gave 
great pleasure to her friends, and whenever Ronald Mac- 
naughten was upset or disturbed (and, unfortunately, 
that had not been a rare occurrence of late), he always 
felt that Mrs. Leyton’s singing soothed and calmed him, 
and he had been imprudent enough to say so before his 
wife. Hence her sarcastic remark that she need not 


COLONEL AND MRS. BERNARD. 21 

have asked where he was going, when he left her at the 
theater. Mrs. Leyton liked Lady Phyllis, but she had 
not made an intimate friend of her — there was almost 
too great a difference in their ages for intimacy. With 
regard to Macnaughten she felt differently. He was a 
deep-thinking; as well as a deep-feeling man. His mind 
was fitted for something higher than the engrossment of 
a London season, or the shooting coverts. He loved 
reading — not the frivolous stuff that sometimes passes 
by that name in these days — but such as was afforded 
him by Carlyle, Froude, Macaulay, or Ruskin. He did 
not care for poetry, calling it sentimental and mawkish — 
and he never opened a novel. Macnaughten liked, 
when he read, to feel that he had stretched the muscles 
of his mind, just as he liked, after exercise, to feel his 
limbs glowing with the exertion. His friend, Dr. Leyton, 
often told him that he was wasting both his capabilities 
and his life — that if he were wise he would read for 
the bar or the Church, and not let his immunity from 
labor spoil the chances that lay before him for repu- 
tation. 

“You are capable of good, nay, great things,” he 
would say to him, “and is the whole of your life to be 
wasted in going to theaters and dances and dinners, or 
in looking after your preserves or the breeding of your 
horses and dogs ? When such things are a necessity, 
they ennoble themselves; but since there is no occasion 
for you to do it, why fritter away a life that was given 
you for higher purposes ?” 

On the evening in question, both Dr. Leyton and his 
wife saw that something was wrong with Ronald Mac- 
naughten, but forbore to ask the reason. They sus- 
pected that the young husband and wife had an occasional 
jar, but were too wise to touch on so delicate a subject. 
So they contented themselves with remarking on the 
magnificent proportions of Master Roy, whom they had 
encountered in the Park that morning. 

This opportune flattery put Macnaughten in a better 
frame of mind, but he was still moody and distrait. 

“Sing me some of your charming German Lieder., Mrs. 
Leyton,” he said presently, “ they calm the evil spirit in 


22 


AT HEART A RAKE. 


me sooner than anything else/’ thereby disclosing that 
there was an evil spirit to be calmed. 

His friends were very judicious with him. They let 
him smoke in silence as long as he chose, and Mrs. 
Leyton sung him all her prettiest songs, but when 
he rose to return home, they did not press him to 
remain. 

I am afraid these young people do not always hit it 
off well together,” said Mrs. Leyton to her husband, as 
the hall door closed after Macnaughten. 

“Never mind. Take no notice,” was the doctor’s 
rejoinder; “ no good was ever done yet by putting your 
finger between the fire and the wood. If their own 
hearts and their little child do not draw them together, 
nothing else will.” 

Macnaughten walked back to Hill Street moodily, 
and let himself in with his latchkey. He went up to 
his dressing room, with the intention of having an hour’s 
reading before he went to rest, when he was attracted 
by the sound of sobbing in Lady Phyllis’ bedroom, and 
throwing open the door, found her prostrate on the sofa, 
and apparently in an agony of grief. The sight hardened, 
instead of softening him. 

“What on earth is the meaning of this ? ” he demanded. 
“What has come to you ? Have you gone out of your 
mind?” 

“Go away ! ” she returned petulantly. “ I don’t wish 
to see or speak to you. This room belongs to me. Be 
kind enough to leave me to myself.” 

The tone she adopted raised his temper. 

“I shall do no such thing,” he answered. “I have 
a right to demand the reason for this extraordinary 
exhibition on your part, and I shall exert my authority 
as your husband to remain wherever you may be, for 
as long a time as I choose.” 

Lady Phyllis turned round and sat up on the sofa, with 
the tear stains on her face. 

“ Oh, yes ! your rights — -your authority,” she retorted, 
flashing defiance at him from her eyes; “if married 
men thought a little less of their rights and their author- 
ity, and had a little more trust and confidence in their 


COLONEL AND MRS. BERNARD. 23 

wives, and a little more respect for them, things would 
be on a happier footing than they are at present.” 

“Indeed! When have I failed to show respect 
for you ? ” 

“You are failing to show it at this moment. What 
right have you, husband or no husband, to force your 
company upon me ? Have I not said that I wish to be 
alone ? Am I not an individual like yourself — with the 
privilege of my own wishes, my own feelings ? Why 
are they to be disregarded any more than yours ? If 
you had returned home, tired and weary, and 
desired to be left in peace, you would have gone 
to your own room and locked the door. What would 
you have said if I had insisted upon forcing my com- 
pany upon you ? Am I not a human creature like 
yourself, or do you look on me in the light of a table 
or a chair which you have purchased with your money, 
and have the right to sit upon ? ” 

Macnaughten moved uneasily on his seat, but only 
murmured: 

“ Don’t talk nonsense, Phyllis.” 

“ It is not nonsense. It is the truth. Mrs. Lascelles 
told me only the other day that when that brute 
Lascelles had been storming at her all the evening, 
and she went up to her room and locked the door to 
escape from him, he followed her and prized the lock 
open with his tools and dragged her out again. That 
is a nice thing for a man, calling himself a gentleman, 
in a civilized country to do, isn’t it ? ” 

“ Well, but I am not Mr. Lascelles.” 

“ Perhaps not, but you’re matriculating for it. You 
do not acknowledge that a woman is to have any likes 
or dislikes of her own — they are all to be guided by 
what you like or dislike — she is to be a milk-and- 
water copy of yourself, in fact — and submissive to you 
in all things. And you won’t get me to be so, for 
one ! ” 

“ But, Phyllis, you know the Bible says ” 

“ Don’t try to foist that stale argument on me. I was 
born too late. You men are very fond of quoting the 
Bible for the benefit of your wives — why don’t you study 


24 


AT HEART A RAKE. 


it sometimes on your own account ? If you were ordained 
to rule over me you were also ordained, in the same 
breath, to earn your bread by the sweat of your brow, 
and one commandment is in about as much force to-day 
as the other.” 

“Phyllis,” said Macnaughten, after a pause, “I am 
not so unreasonable as you imagine, and I see the justice 
of what you say. Your room is your own, and, as a 
gentleman, I had no right to force my presence upon 
you. I will therefore bid you good-night, and go.” 

But, as he rose and prepared to quit her, a sudden re- 
pentance overtook Lady Phyllis, and she began to sob 
again. Her emotion arrested his footsteps. 

“ What is the matter ? ” he redemanded. “ Am I the 
cause of your distress ? If so, tell me what I have done.” 

He resumed his seat beside the couch where she had 
thrown herself, and waited for a reply. 

“ Cannot I help you, Phyllis ? Why are you crying?” 

“I don’t know,” murmured his wife from beneath the 
folds of her handkerchief. 

“You are incomprehensible to me. I cannot under- 
stand you. When I remember the old days and compare 
them with the present, I do not know if I am standing on 
my head or my heels. How is it possible that you can 
cry without knowing the reason ?” 

“I can feel the necessity without recognizing the rea- 
son,” replied Lady Phyllis. “I only know that I am sick 
and weary of everything in life — that I wish I was dead 
and out of it all.” 

“You have been overdoing it — it is all the fault of the 
season,” replied Macnaughten. “ You should not go out 
so much. Stay more at home with your child.” 

“ More at home with my child !” echoed Lady Phyllis 
contemptuously. “That is another specimen of the 
usual marital insult. A child, if he be but an infant, is 
always considered sufficiently intellectual company for 
the woman who brought him into the world, though the 
man who begets him would run five miles the other way 
sooner than be shut up with him for half an hour.” 

“ Oh, come! you can’t lay that sin to my charge with 
regard to Roy,” exclaimed Macnaughten. “ I may be 


COLONEL AND MRS. BERNARD. 


25 


an execrable husband, but I’m sure I’m a good father. 
I’m as proud as a peacock of my little son.” 

‘‘Yes ; just because he happens to be a fine, strong, 
handsome child who reflects a certain amount of credit 
on yourself, and upon whom you look as a worthy suc- 
cessor. But if he had been a miserable, wizened little 
deformity, like the Lascelles’ baby, you would have been 
glad to get out of his way.” 

“ Do you think so ? ” said Macnaughten dubiously ; “ I 
don’t. But, as he’s such a bonny fellow, it’s hard to 
judge. However, this is not the point we were discuss- 
ing. We were talking of the reason for your despondency, 
and I attribute it to an overstrain. Why not run down 
to Sedgeley and see your sisters ? Would not a few days 
in the country do you good ? ” 

“ Have you any particular motive for wishing to get 
me out of the way ? ” asked Lady Phyllis. 

“ Now, Phyllis, don’t be unkind ! What has come over 
you ? Sometimes I wonder if you are the same girl who 
used to tremble with pleasure when she felt my arms 
around her.” 

“ I don’t think I am,” said Lady Phyllis. 

“ But what has changed you? Are we not as happy 
as we used to be, and happier, with our little Roy to love 
and look after ? There was a time, Phyllis, when we 
would have died sooner than separate voluntarily — when 
we had no pleasure except in each other’s society. It is 
very sad to think that such a time should be no more. 
What is the reason ? Have we grown tired of each 
other ? ” 

Lady Phyllis knitted her brows. 

“ I suppose we have,” she answered. 

“ Oh, don’t say it ! ” cried Macnaughten, in a voice of 
pain. 

“Well, you asked me the question, Ronald. But per- 
haps the feeling will pass away. I will be frank with you. 
There seems to have come a great monotony over my 
life. I cannot say what I want in it changed — but every- 
thing seems flat, stale, and unprofitable. I am so dull.” 

^^jDull/'* exclaimed her husband in amazement — 
“when you go out every night in the week, and are 


26 


AT HEART A RAHE. 


receiving company all the day. You have carriages and 
horses at your command ; you can go where you choose, 
and spend as much money as you like. How can you be 
dull ? ” 

‘‘Well, then, I am ! These things don’t fill up the 
measure of my content. I feel a want here ” — pressing 
her hand upon her breast — “which I cannot describe to 
you.” 

“Oh, this is folly! You are overstrung, as I said 
before; you will get hysterical if you indulge in such 
fancies. You had far better go down to Sedgeley, and 
let the Hampshire breezes blow the cobwebs off your 
brain. I shall have you ill at this rate. Will you go ? ” 

“I will think of it,” replied his wife wearily, “and let 
you know in the morning. But I can only go for a day 
or two, because of my engagements.” 

“A few hours will do you more good than enough,” 
said Macnaughten, as he rose from his seat; “and now I 
advise you to go to bed, and get all the rest you can. 
Good-night.” 

He left the room as he spoke. Lady Phyllis would 
rather he had shown more disposition to stay beside her, 
but the time seemed past when he had been so eager for 
her company, and she was too proud to evince her disap- 
pointment at the change. 


CHAPTER III. 


LORD LISNOR’S FAMILY. 

The summer glory had fallen upon Sedgeley. The 
pink blossoms of the sandy heath, which encompassed 
the village for miles around, tinged the horizon like a 
Scottish moor; and the groves of pines which sheltered 
it from the north wind were bending under the burden of 
their aromatic cones. The foliage of the trees on Lord 
Lisnoi’s estate presented a beautiful kaleidoscope of color, 
from the deep bronze red of the copper beech and the 
pale green of the elms and sycamores to the olive greens 
and browns of the oaks, and the yellow hues of the 
fading lilacs and laburnams. The sandy roads were 
all either uphill or down dale, and fringed by bushy 
bracken ferns, which reared their thick fronds bravely 
and almost formed a hedge in themselves, for Sedgeley 
stood in a mountainous county, and was famous for its 
healthy and bracing qualities. The village depended on 
itself alone for popularity, for it could only boast of two 
or three small shops, and everything of any consequence 
had to be fetched from the tow'n of Hillford, five miles 
away. There were no conveyances to be hired in the 
place, nor any lodgings to be had — there was only one 
church for all denominations of people who might 
sojourn there — and the doctor in charge- of the parish 
lived three miles off. It might be supposed, therefore, 
that Sedgeley, with all its natural beauties, would not 
have proved an attractive residence for anyone who was 
not rich enough to get away from it whenever he wished 
to do so. Yet the village was speckled over with tiny 
tenements, holding at the most two or three tenants 
each, who all considered they attained a certain amount 
of respectability from living so near the residence of an 
earl. A man with a handle to his name is a social magnet 


27 


28 


AT HEART A RAKE. 


in England, and draws the smaller fry after him as 
dolphins attract the flying fish. What his lordship is 
about to do, or where her ladyship has gone, or what 
their daughters wear, serves as endless matter for dis- 
cussion. It takes the place of politics, and theaters, and 
literature. People must have excitement of some sort in 
this world. Their livers won’t work without it. Some 
take it out in dissipation — some in devotional exercises — 
a few in striving after the good of their neighbors — a 
great many in making their neighbors’ lives as miserable 
as they know how. But all these worketh the selfsame 
liver. Sedgeley took it out in the form of discussing 
Lord Lisnor’s private affairs. Not that, after all, there 
was very much to talk about, for the Lisnor family had 
never given occasion for scandal in any form. The 
greatest wonder about the present earl was how he con- 
trived to keep five unmarried daughters and a maiden 
sister on the inadequate income which he had inherited 
with the title. Lord Lisnor was a man of sixty years of 
age and a widower. He had married an heiress, whose 
large fortune was entailed on her eldest son, in default of 
whom it returned at her death into the bosom of her own 
family. 

The earl had never doubted, when he married her, but 
that she would have a son — all properly-minded women 
did — but this particular woman neglected her duty to 
that degree that, after twelve years of matrimony, she 
had the audacity to depart this life, leaving her husband 
not only without a son but with half a dozen daughters. 
It was a crushing blow to him, more so than the fact of 
her death. 

He had always been a poor man — now, after having 
enjoyed the use of his wife’s money for twelve years, he 
found himself poorer than ever. For, in addition to 
keeping and educating his six girls, he had been com- 
pelled to ask his maiden sister. Lady Catherine Powell, 
to take up her residence at Sedgeley Manor as chaperon 
to her nieces, and though the eldest. Lady Camilla, was 
now thirty, and quite capable of looking after herself 
and her sisters. Aunt Kate still remained on the premises, 
and was considered as one of the family. 


LORD LISNOR'S FAMILY. 


29 


Many people think that the possession of a title covers 
a multitude of sins in the shape of short commons and 
sparse allowances, but they judge in ignorance of the 
obligations entailed by aristocratic birth and the humilia- 
tion suffered by not being able to keep pace with the‘ 
requirements of one’s social position — a humiliation 
which is felt before no one so much as one’s own serv- 
ants, who despise the economy without realizing the 
cause. While other young women of their rank were 
presented at court, and mixed in all the gayeties natural 
to their time of life, the Ladies Powell had been kept 
down at Sedgeley, simply because their father had not 
the wherewithal to pay for court dresses, and a house in 
town, and a carriage and horses for them to prance about 
in. Of course there was Lady Phyllis Macnaughten — 
she had made a big match as far as money went, and had 
she possessed only one or two sisters she might have 
given them a chance — but what could she do with five ? 
It was too much to expect, and so each one declined to 
accept her invitations, because they could not all go. It 
was very sisterly, but rather short-sighted. At the time 
we see them first, the earl was going about his farm in a 
suit that had already seen three seasons, and his daugh- 
ters were wondering what they should do if papa did not 
give them new autumn dresses and mantles. Their Aunt 
Kate, who had a little income of her own, was very kind 
to them in the way of occasionally adding a cloak or a hat 
to their slender wardrobes, but, willing as the good soul 
was to do her best for her brother’s children, her allow- 
ance would not go very far when divided between five 
nieces — to say nothing of her own requirements. Not 
that it really much signified what they wore in Sedgeley, 
but then the girls’ great aim and ambition was to get out 
of Sedgeley. They attributed all their misfortunes to 
their residence in that out-of-the-way place. If papa had 
only elected to live in London they would all have been 
married long ago — so they said. They never took into 
consideration the fact that they had no dowries — were 
not more than ordinarily good looking (Lady Phyllis 
being the beauty of the family), and had not enjoyed 
many advantages in the way of education. First, a 


30 


AT HEART A RAKE. 


governess at home, and then a couple of years at a board- 
ing school to “finish off,” had left them very unequal to 
cope with the cultivation of young ladies who had just 
left high school or college. Only one out of six married 
— and that to a commoner! It was incomprehensible — 
unbearable — too disheartening for anything! 

So the Ladies Powell lamented, and nothing their Aunt 
Kate said could comfort them. They drooped like nuns 
incarcerated against their will, and grew thinner and 
more old-maidish in appearance every day. Indeed, the 
villagers often said that they didn’t know Lady Camilla 
from Lady Catherine, they had grown so like each other. 

Lord Lisnor was obliged to keep up some sort of ap- 
pearance, in deference to his rank, but it was a very 
poor sort of appearance indeed, and the Ladies Powell 
quite dreaded the visits of their sister Lady Phyllis, lest 
her fine servants should carry back tales to London of the 
table they kept at Sedgeley Manor. They had an old 
landau, sorely in need of paint, with a couple of screws to 
drive about in, but they were very much ashamed of the 
turnout, and Lady Helen, who was the next youngest 
sister to Phyllis, preferred to rattle about the village in a 
pony cart with a Welsh pony, which was no better than 
those which the farmers’ daughters round Sedgeley used 
for themselves. But though they went about shabbily 
clothed — with old gloves and hats — and though the earl 
sold his milk and butter and poultry — ^and his servants’ 
liveries were the worse for wear — and the butcher said 
the Sedgeley Manor bill was the lowest in the parish for 
the size of the establishment — they were Lords and 
Ladies, and the village never forgot the fact. There is 
an innate adoration of a title, born with the British sub- 
ject, which will never be eradicated, talk as he will ! 
And so Lord Lisnor’s family’s sayings and doings formed 
the Blue Book of their humbler neighbors. When the 
telegram arrived at Sedgeley Manor, on the morning after 
the events described in the last chapter, to say that 
Lady Phyllis Macnaughten would arrive at Hillford by 
the five o’clock train, and to request that the carriage 
might be sent to meet her, considerable confusion 
reigned in the household, for to speak the truth the 


LORD LISNOR'S FAMILY. 


31 


Ladies Powell had become a little afraid of Lady Phyl- 
lis’ remarks since her marriage — while she, with the inso- 
lence born of youth and familiarity, had not the least 
hesitation in ridiculing her father’s establishment and her 
sisters’ dresses. 

“What can be the reason of Phyllis taking us so un- 
awares ? ” said Lady Camilla peevishly to her aunt Kate. 
“She knows how inconvenient it is for us to receive her 
and her overbearing servants without preparation. Why 
could not she have given us some notice? We have 
nothing but a family dinner to-day, and she is sure to 
turn up her nose at everything on the table.” 

“Oh, no, dear! she is not so bad as that. She has 
never done more than have a little good-natured laugh 
at our old-fashioned ways. What have you ordered for 
dinner this evening ? ” 

“ Boiled beef, rabbit pie, apple fritters,” replied Lady 
Camilla, who was the housekeeper, with a grimace. 

“That is rather homely! Cannot you substitute a 
pair of roast fowls for the pie, and let that serve for the 
servants’ dinner to-morrow ? ” 

“ And hear afterward that that horrid Louise of Phyl- 
lis’ has declined to eat it. Phyllis’ servants are a 
great deal worse than herself. I do wish she would not 
take us by storm in this inconvenient manner.” 

“ My dear, that is not the way to speak of your sister’s 
visits — one would think you were sorry to see her ! It is 
quite a long time since she was here last — over three 
months ! Have you ordered the carriage to meet the 
five o’clock train at Hillford ? ” 

“ Yes, and put off dinner till seven. Phyllis- is sure to 
be fussing up in her bedroom with her beloved Louise 
for an hour after her arrival.” 

“Is she to have her old bedroom ?” demanded Lady 
Winifred. “How she will enjoy it! She said the last 
time she was here that she detested the very thought of 
Sedgeley, and would rather starve than come back to it.” 

“ She hasn’t tried starving yet,” remarked Lady Mary. 

“No, indeed!” exclaimed Lady Helen, “nor any- 
thing else disagreeable — that is, since she has been so 
lucky as to be married. You should see her bedroom 


32 


AT HEART A RAKE. 


in Hill Street, Aunt Kate. It is like a princess’s — all 
guipure lace and pale pink silk draperies, and such 
heavenly china ! I think she told me it cost twelve 
guineas the set. But Ronald is perfectly crazy about 
Phyllis. I believe he would have her walk on velvet and 
eat off gold, if he had his way. What wouldn’t I give to 
have a husband like that ! ” 

“I wonder how she will like to use her old set,” said 
Lady Mary spitefully ; the basin has a crack right 
across it. Fanny, the housemaid, took it to be riveted 
last week, for she said she was afraid to handle it any 
longer.” 

“We must change that,” interposed Lady Catherine 
hastily. “Tell Fanny to put that crockery into my bed- 
room, Mary. Phyllis shall have my set during her ^tay. 
We mustn’t let the poor child wash from a cracked 
basin.” 

“ ‘And to whoso hath shall be given, even more than 
he hath, ’ ” quoted Lady Winifred, shrugging her shoul- 
ders. “ We have to put up with all sorts of inconveni- 
ences all the days of our life, but as soon as Lady 
Phyllis Macnaughten, who, as Nell observed, might feed 
off gold, if she elected to do so, bears down upon us, we 
must be stripped of our solitary comforts in order to do 
her honor.” 

By which it will be seen that a great deal of jealousy 
of Lady Phyllis’ lucky matrimonial speculation existed 
among the Ladies Powell. 

Only Helen, her favorite sister, stood up for her 
bravely. 

“You’re a set of sneaks — all except Aunt Kate,” she 
exclaimed indignantly. “You wouldn’t dare to talk like 
that to Phyllis’ face. What has she done, poor darling ! 
except marry the man of her choice. We should all have 
been glad enough to follow her example, if we had had 
the chance.” 

“Which we probably should have had, if we had laid 
ourselves out to catch anyone as she did Mr. Macnaugh- 
ten,” replied Lady Camilla, who was the most cross- 
grained of the sisters. “ The way in which Phyllis used 
to go on with that man before their marriage was posi- 


LORD LISNOR'S FAMILY. 


33 


tively disgusting. I have entered a room, again and 
again, and found them sitting on a sofa together, with 
her head on his shoulder, and his arm around her — bah ! 
It used to revolt me. There was something so terribly 
unmaidenly about it.” 

“What nonsense !” cried Helen. “What, when they 
were engaged ! Would you have had her sit at the op- 
posite side of the room from him ? Your fiand (if you 
ever have one, Camilla) will soon get sick of that sort of 
thing.” 

“I should certainly not sicken him with too much 
familiarity,” replied Lady Camilla. 

“ Phyllis was more in love than anyone I have ever 
seen before,” said Lady Winifred. “ Do you remember 
the trouble we had with her if Mr. Macnaughten went 
to the North for a couple of weeks — floods of tears on 
parting, low spirits and pale cheeks for a week after- 
ward, and then, bursts of hysterical joy when he re- 
turned — and no appetite from excitement. I am sure I 
was glad enough, for one, when the wedding came off.” 

“Well, it must be very nice to love and to be loved 
like that,” said Helen thoughtfully, “and it has been 
such a perfectly happy marriage into the bargain. They 
do love each other so — and then, that sweet little love 
Roy ! Oh, I would give everything that I possess, 
though that’s not saying much, just to have a child like 
Roy.” 

“Helen, do think what you are saying! I’m dis- 
gusted with you,” said Lady Camilla. 

Lady Catherine foresaw a storm and thought it better 
to interrupt the conversation. 

“Well, well, dears! we won’t quarrel , about that. 
Phyllis is a very happy girl and we should all be thankful 
for it. Helen, I suppose you will like to go and meet 
her at Hillford this afternoon ? ” 

“ Rather ! ” said Lady Helen. “ Phyllis shall feel that 
there is one at least, among us, who is not too jealous of 
her good fortune to welcome her.” 

“ Ridiculous ! ” quoth Lady Camilla, as she stalked out 
of the room. 

“Absurd ! ” echoed Lady Mary. “You really should 


34 


AT HEART A RARTE. 


bridle your tongue a little, Helen. I am sure / should 
be very sorry to lower myself by marrying a commoner. 
Pray who ts Mr. Macnaughten ? A Scotchman, whose 
ancestors fought with cross-bows and were clothed in 
untanned skins, at the time when ours sat on the throne 
of England ! ” 

“How many of them at a time?” asked Lady Helen, 
laughing. “You’d have been precious glad to catch Mr. 
Macnaughten, with all that money, even if /le had only 
been clothed in an untanned skin, Mary ! You can’t deny 
that, and nobody would believe you if you did.” 

“Aunt Kate,” exclaimed Lady Mary, appealing to 
Lady Catherine, “do be good enough to make Helen hold 
her tongue. Her remarks are most offensive. I don’t 
wonder at Camilla refusing to remain here to listen to 
them.” 

“Helen, my dear, pray be quiet ! I think there are 
several things you must have to do if you intend to go 
into Hillford this afternoon to meet your sister. And I 
have a list of articles to send to Sterey’s which you can 
bring back with you. Come with me and let us see after 
Phyllis’ room. She did not say if she was going to 
bring Reynolds and Roy with her. If she does, they 
must take your room, and you shall share mine. We will 
manage to make them comfortable, never fear ! ” 

And so Lady Catherine, the peacemaker, left the room, 
drawing her niece after her. 

At the appointed time Lady Helen Powell was at the 
station of Hillford, looking out eagerly for the approach- 
ing train. As it drew up Lady Phyllis jumped out upon 
the platform. She was robed in a close-fitting black 
dress, and wore a large black hat trimmed with ostrich 
feathers — in her hand she carried a handbag. Nothing 
could have been simpler or less ostentatious than her 
appearance. Lady Helen looked beyond her for the 
appearance of Reynolds and Roy. But Lady Phyllis was 
alone — not even the objectionable Louise having accom- 
panied her. 

“You haven’t brought Roy with you, dear ? ” said 
Lady Helen, in a tone of disappointment, as she embraced 
her sister, “nor Louise?” 


LORD LI SNORES FAMILY. 


35 


‘‘ No, Nell ! nobody but my unworthy self. Didn’t I 
make it plain in my telegram this morning, that I was 
coming down for a little rest and a good blow ? What 
should I want to bother myself with a child and nurse 
for ? And as for Louise, I thought I would manage with- 
out her for a couple of days. It will be a novelty — and 
add to the effects of the change.” 

‘^But you are not looking ill,” remarked her sister, as 
they ensconced themselves in the old landau and gave 
the order for “ Home! ” 

“Neither am I ill, Nell — only tired to death with going 
to parties and theaters and trying to amuse other people. 
I have worked myself up to such a pitch that I felt as if 
nothing but a sight of Sedgeley and you all would do me 
any good, and as Ronald thought so too, me voila ! ” 

“ I am so glad you should think like that,” said Helen, 
squeezing Lady Phyllis’ hand, as they drove home 
together. “I am sure I have missed you enough. It 
seems a century since you were here last, just after 
Christmas time. I shall never be friends with any of the 
others, as I am with you, Phyllis.” 

“And it is a shame you are not with me,” rejoined her 
sister. “ I’m sure it is not my doing. I have asked you 
to come up to town often enough — in fact, to take up 
your residence altogether with us, if it so pleased you.” 

“I know you have, dear, and I should have liked noth- 
ing better. But you know what papa is — as proud as 
Lucifer — and he will not hear of my taking up my resi- 
dence under the roof of any man, however well-off he 
may be, unless he can offer him a quid pro quo. Even a 
visit to you in Hill Street would entail more expense 
than he can afford; and again he says, if either of us is 
to derive the advantage of an introduction by you, it 
should be Camilla, because she is the oldest — and I feel 
sure you don’t want to have Camilla.” 

Lady Phyllis shrugged her shoulders. 

“ The question is, my dear Nell, what should I do with 
her, when I got her. I should have no hope of marrying 
her off. Now you, with your birth and your dear little 
face and ways, I feel sure would marry before the end of 
the season. It seems hard that I mayn’t do what I can 


3 ^ 


AT HEATT A RAJCE. 


for my favorite sister, because there are four more in the 
background,” 

‘‘And Camilla and Winifred are getting so old — so 
awfully old!” said Nell. “But you don’t know how 
shabby I am, Phyllis,” she continued, in a whisper. “I 
couldn’t appear in town as I am. I should require a 
complete fit-out. I wouldn’t have your servants see the 
things I wear. I daresay theirs are better.” 

“I would give you a complete fit-out,” replied her 
sister. “What is money to me? You know I have a 
great deal more than I know what to do with.” 

“ It would be lovely,” sighed Lady Helen, “but papa 
will never consent to it. He is so funny in some things. 
I believe he is rather proud of being poor and owing 
nothing to anybody but himself. He often says, ‘ A 
noble can die; but directly he becomes beholden to any 
other man, he ceases to be noble.’ ” 

“That’s all very fine talking,” said Phyllis, “but being 
noble will not buy bread and cheese. I used to think 
grand things of my birth at one time, but I’ve got over 
all such nonsense, and consider a good balance at the 
banker’s worth all the patents of nobility in the world. 
At this rate, papa will die, leaving you all old maids, with 
scarcely sufficient money to put bread into your mouths. 
I’d rather marry a thriving tradesman than encounter 
such a fate.” 

“Oh! don’t let father hear you talk like that, Phyllis, 
or he will curse you for a degenerate daughter,” cried 
Lady Helen, laughing. “ He is very down upon you for 
having married a commoner sometimes. He thinks such 
a lot of you. He says you should have been a duchess, 
and would have been, had our poor mother lived to have 
a son. But I am sure you are happier as you are, 
Phyllis — aren’t you, now ? ” 

“Oh, I’m happy enough, as far as that goes,” replied 
Lady Phyllis carelessly ; “ but I’m getting too old to 
brag about it. Nobody is really happy in this world, 
we all have troubles of one sort or another, and I am no 
exception to the rule, I suppose.” 

“ Why, what’s up now ? ” exclaimed her sister. “Noth- 
ing the matter with Ronald or sweet little Roy is there? 


LORD LI SNORES FAMILY. 


37 


Now that I look at you, Phyllis, I fancy that you are 
thinner and paler than you were at Christmas time. You 
are not ill, dear, are you ? ” 

“77/? no ! only wearied out with pleasure and gayety. 
I went to two dances last week, Nelly, the opera and two 
theaters, gave an evening and two afternoons at home, 
and wenj: to an horticultural fete and a fancy bazaar. So 
you may fancy I had not much time to rest. Oh, by the 
way, whom do you imagine I met quite by accident last 
night at the Gaiety Theater ? ” 

“ Can’t guess, I’m sure. Man or woman ?” 

“ Both. Cissy Brandon, who was with us at Brighton, 
and her husband. Colonel Bernard.” 

“Her husband! Then is Cissy married too?” ex- 
claimed Helen, in a tone as though she would say, 
“ Everyone is married except myself ! ” 

“Yes ; she has been married, she told me, for more 
than a year. I am not sure if I quite like the look of 
Colonel Bernard. He is gentlemanly and all that, but 
much older than she is; sixty, I should say, if he is a day, 
and too bland and smiling to suit my taste. I hate a man 
who shows his teeth when he smiles. It looks so like a 
grinning wolf. Colonel Bernard is able, if I am not mis- 
taken, to show another side to his character in private. 
But then all married men do that. No one knows them 
as they really are except their wives.” 

“And do you know Ronald?” asked Lady Helen, 
smiling. 

“ Present company are always excepted,” replied Lady 
Phyllis evasively. 

“ Poor little Cissy ! I hope she is happy,” resumed 
her sister; “she was such a good-natured, timid 
creature. Don’t you remember that if the teachers 
ever spoke harshly to her she invariably told a false- 
hood from sheer fright, and yet she would do anything 
if you asked her kindly. She always reminded me of 
one of those tiny dogs which are so loving and yet so 
timid that, if you strike them or speak harshly to them, 
they will not come near you even to take their food. 
How was Cissy looking ? I have not heard of her for 
years.” 


38 


AT HEART A RAKE. 


“ Much prettier than I thought she would be. Her 
complexion has cleared, and she has the curliest crop of 
hair. She looks older than her age, though, — you know 
she is only twenty, — and her eyes have rather a mournful 
expression in them. But she is decidedly chic. I should 
think men would like her. Percy was in my box last 
night and took a note over to Cissy. He didn’t think her 
pretty at first sight, but came round to my view after- 
ward, and said she was ‘ decidedly fetching.’ You know 
his silly way of talking. Ronald can’t bear him, but I 
feel obliged to make him welcome in Hill Street for Aunt 
Meliora’s sake. Besides, he is someone to talk to and 
laugh at, and it is so dull sometimes being away from all 
of you.” 

Dull V exclaimed Lady Helen, just as Macnaughten 
had done. “Dull in Hill Street, in the height of the 
season ! Oh, Phyllis, you must be joking ! ” 

“No, I’m not. Being married is awfully dull some- 
times. You can’t say and do as you like, as a girl at 
home can, nor run about as we used to do at Sedgeley. 
Everything you say or do is improper, or people say so, 
when you’re a married woman. You’re not supposed to 
have an idea or a thought different from your husband — 
and then you scarcely ever see anybody else. Oh, Nell, I 
know what you are going to say, but I mean in a sociable, 
intimate way. All the people you meet at balls and 
dinners are not friends, they are only acquaintances, they 
are no good for everyday life, and after all, it is every- 
day life that we have to live. Men are so different. 
They have their clubs to go to whenever they want a 
change, but we have nothing. We can only sit at home 
and feel bored.” 

To Lady Helen this was such a revelation on the part 
of her happily married sister, that she could only sit 
opposite to her with eyes wide open with astonishment. 


CHAPTER IV. 


LADY PHYLLIS DISCOURSES ON MARRIAGE. 

Whatever the private opinions of the Ladies Powell 
might be, they welcomed their married sister to Sedgeley 
Manor with apparent pleasure, and the earl was unfeign- 
edly delighted to see her again. Lady Phyllis had always 
been his favorite daughter, chiefly because he was proud 
of her beauty, though he could hardly flatter himself that 
she owed her good looks to him. Lord Lisnor was not 
at all an ideal earl; not like the earls that we see on the 
stage or read of in novels. He was a short, spare man, 
with thin gray hair, which had been once red, small eyes 
with white lashes, like a ferret, and a scorbutic com- 
plexion. 

For many years, on account of his poverty, he had 
neither mixed in society nor asked any guests to the 
Manor ; all he seemed to care about was the farming of 
his land, the looking after his crops and harvests, the 
selling of his pigs and cattle to the London market. 

His whole life was absorbed in these things, and his 
family never saw him but at meals. But as he entered 
the dining room that evening and caught sight of his 
graceful Phyllis advancing to meet him, with a bunch of 
roses in her belt, his face showed signs ofl unmistakable 
pleasure. 

‘‘Welcome, my dear, welcome !” he said, as he kissed 
her, and then held her at arm’s length for better exami- 
nation. “Ah! as bonny as ever, I see. Macnaughten 
takes good care of you, and he and I should quarrel if he 
didn’t. Well, what’s the news? Husband well? Son 
and heir thriving? All the papers full of Lady Phyllis 
Macnaughten’s dress at the last drawing room, eh ? ” 

“Yes, papa,” replied Phyllis, laughing; “everything 
as right as it can be. Only I have been ‘ going it ’ a little 


39 


40 


AT HEART A RAKE. 


too much lately, and Ronald thought a few days of fresh 
air would do me good. It is awfully hot up in town; the 
theaters and ballrooms quite unbearable. I shall be glad 
when the season is over.” 

“And where do you and Macnaughten intend to go to 
when that happens ? ” 

“Oh, to Scotland, I suppose, as usual. Ronald could 
not do without his grouse-shooting, but I must say I am 
sick of the moors. You really must let Nelly go up there 
with me this year, papa. I think it is the stupidest thing 
in the world for women to be mewed up in a shooting box 
while the men are out with their guns. Nothing to do, 
and no one to see, and though Ronald generally invites 
some of his friends’ wives to accompany them, it is not 
every woman with whom I can get on. I hate the thought 
of it.” 

“But then you have the pleasure of receiving the 
gentlemen home to dinner in the evening, Phyllis,” 
suggested Lady Rose. 

“Oh, yes; a great pleasure !” retorted Phyllis sar- 
castically, “when they are so tired they can hardly drag 
one limb after the other, and so sleepy they can scarcely 
keep their eyes open. Mrs. Wyndham and I agreed, last 
autumn, that they were the dullest companions we had 
ever had. They would sit for an hour or more, after 
dinner, drinking wine and telling their stupid stories, 
and if they managed to drag themselves into the drawing 
room at all, it was only to make an excuse for going to 
bed. I should refuse to go at all, only one must order 
the meals for the silly creatures, who cannot do the 
simplest things for themselves.” 

The earl laughed heartily at her grumbling. He liked 
to watch the pouting of her pretty lips and the sparkle 
in her eyes. 

“ Well, well ! my little girl,” he said, “ here is a dinner, 
at least, which you have not had the trouble to order, so 
come and do justice to it, if you can. Macnaughten 
spoils you, that’s what it is, and so you’re getting too 
fine for your work.” 

He laughed heartily at his own sally as he sat down 
to carve the boiled beef, and Lady Camilla glanced with 


LABV PHYLLIS DISCOURSES ON MARRIAGE. 41 

a pursed-up mouth at her sister Winifred, to see how the 
visitor would take their humble fare. But Lady Phyllis 
disappointed her family in one respect. She ate boiled 
beef with a relish, as if she were really hungry, and did 
ample justice to the apple fritters. 

“Are all the strawberries gone yet, Nell?” she in- 
quired, as the meal proceeded. “ London strawberries 
don’t taste like the same fruit to me. If they are not 
sodden, they are always half raw. Have you had plenty 
this season ? ” 

“ Lots ! ” answered Nelly. “ We should have sent you 
some, had we not thought you must have more than you 
could eat.” 

“Anyway, I’ve come down here to get a fresh sensa- 
tion, so I shall make a raid upon the strawberry beds this 
evening. I cannot stay longer than the day after to- 
morrow, so I must make the most of my opportunities.” 

“You mustn’t go back to town without seeing my 
spring calves and foals, Phyllis,” said her father. “We’ve 
had fine luck this year. Fifteen of the finest calves I’ve 
ever bred, and four splendid foals. Old Kitty is the dam 
of one. You remember Kitty, the black mare which we 
drove in harness for a while ? ” 

“ Oh, yes, papa ! And is the foal black also ? ” 

“ No, it’s a bright bay with a white blaze — such a 
beauty ! Looks like a Derby winner already. What 
horses are you driving now, Phyllis ? ” 

“ Bays, father.” 

“Bays! Why, you had roans last year, hadn’t you? 
Why did Macnaughten change them? Weren’t they 
satisfactory ? ” 

“I don’t know,” replied Lady Phyllis indifferently. 
“I never interfere in such matters. I suppose he had 
some good reason for changing them. . Gave the other 
pair to a friend as likely as not. He is always doing 
some mad thing or other. You see one cannot pet car- 
riage horses, and the stables are a long way from our 
house, so I really know nothing about them. I have a 
lovely Arab mare, which he bought for me to ride this 
season, but I have only mounted her three or four times. 
I am generally too tired, in the mornings, to ride, and I 


42 


AT HEART A RAKE. 


prefer my steady old Stella. Baby has a dear little pony 
to carry his chair. Really it is no larger than a big dog. 
Ronald picked it up somewhere in Devonshire, I think. 
It is a miniature dray-horse. So many people stop to 
ask who Roy is, when he is on it.” 

The careless manner in which the possession of these 
luxuries was mentioned made Lady Phyllis’ elder sisters 
still more jealous of the good fortune which she seemed 
to take so easily, and a little of which, had it fallen to 
their share, would have gone so far. But Lady Phyllis 
did not appear to notice their glances or their covert 
sneers. Lord Lisnor kept her engaged in conversation 
during dinner, and as soon as it was over he, took her out 
into the garden and over the farm buildings to show her 
his own treasures, so that by ten o’clock she was thoroughly 
tired and quite ready to go to bed. 

I hope you will find everything that you require in 
your room, my dear Phyllis,” remarked Lady Catherine, 
as she bade her niece good-night. “I have tried to make 
it comfortable for you, but I need not remind you that 
Sedgeley Manor is far behind Hill Street in luxuries of 
every kind.” 

“ Oh, Aunt Kate ! ” exclaimed Phyllis, with a look of 
dismay, “ I hope you have not been taking any trouble 
about me. I mean to sleep with Nelly. I came down 
with that idea — in fact, I won’t sleep anywhere else ! ” 
Oh, well ! my dear, if you wofUt there is nothing 
more to be said about it,” replied Lady Catherine, with a 
smile, ‘‘ and I am sure that Nelly will be very pleased to 
have you for a bedfellow once more, and will make you 
as comfortable as she can.” 

And so the two sisters went up to their room together. 

Lady Phyllis unrobed herself — assumed a white dress- 
ing gown belonging to Lady Helen — let down her 
abundant light chestnut hair — and taking a brush and 
comb from her handbag, commenced to tear through the 
silky mass and entangle it in every direction. 

“ Oh, Phyllis ! be careful ! you will ruin your hair,” 
cried Lady Helen. “ See, what a terrible tangle you are 
getting it into ! Let me do it for you. I don’t suppose 
you have ever touched it yourself since you left home. ” 


LADY PHYLLIS DISCOURSES ON MARRIAGE. 43 


‘‘Well, to tell you the truth, I have not. My first 
maid, Jennett, was an excellent hair-dresser, and Louise 
is still better. She understands every phase of hair- 
dressing, so that I have no trouble about it. It is so 
horribly thick — if it is pulled in the very least, I call out.” 

“ It is beautiful,” said Lady Helen, as she affectionately 
regarded the shining coils, “and I love to brush it for you. 
It is like old times, when we did everything for one 
another. But, Phyllis,” she continued, after a while, 
“much as I love to have you here — and I nearly went wild 
with delight when your wire came this morning — I can’t 
quite understand your coming so suddenly, without giving 
us any warning. We could have had things so much 
more comfortable for you, if we had known. There is no 
need to tell you that we are obliged to see after things a 
little when we expect a visitor.” 

“ And that is just what I did not want you to have the 
trouble of doing,” replied her sister. “What is good 
enough for you is good enough for me.” 

“But it must be so different from what you are accus- 
tomed to.” 

“Perhaps I like it all the better for that reason. 
Cannot you understand, Nelly, that one can have too 
much, even of a good thing — that life has no charm 
without variety — that any change (though it be for the 
worse) is a novelty and a distraction.” 

“You wouldn’t talk like that if you were obliged to 
stay here long, and to put up with Camilla’s dinners and 
papa’s stable talk, Phyllis,” replied her sister. “You 
would be glad enough to get back to Hill Street, then.” 

“ I dare say. We all want just what we cannot have, 
in this world. I suppose it is human nature. We are 
very like children. Roy will throw away the handsomest 
toy you can give him, to cry for a hideous bronze idol 
off the mantelpiece.” 

“I don’t like to hear you talk like that, Phyllis,” said 
Lady Helen. “You used to be so delighted with your 
home — and — and — Ronald. ” 

“And who says I am not ?” exclaimed Lady Phyllis 
quickly. 

“ You do not speak of them as if you were. Forgive 


44 


AT HEART A RAKE. 


me, dear, if I am saying too much — I have no right, I 
know. But it seems to me as if you were so — discon- 
tented, somehow.” 

Phyllis was silent for a minute and then she said: 

‘‘There is nothing to forgive, Nell. I suppose I speak 
as I feel. I fancy I am a little discontented, as you say 
— but it is not exactly my fault. It is the fault of 
marriage.” 

“ Of marriage ? Oh, Phyllis! and when you made 
such a happy one! Camilla and Winifred were saying 
only this morning that they had never seen a girl so 
much in love as you were with Ronald.” 

“I know I was — and I suppose I am — only, marriage 
has not turned out to be all that I expected. When you 
are going to be married, Nelly, come to me and I will 
tell you the history of mine. You shall not marry as 
I did.” 

“I would rather you told it to me now,” said Lady 
Helen softly. “When I am in love with someone it may 
be too late.” 

“Well, after all, there does not seem much to tell. 
You know how fond I was of Ronald ” 

“ Oh, yes! I can remember your preventing my sleep- 
ing, from the way in which you cried all night the day 
he sprained his ankle and was prevented coming down 
to Sedgeley; and when he was obliged to go abroad with, 
his mother, we none of us could do anything with you, 
the whole winter. Don’t remember it ? ” 

“I was a fool, an idiot!” replied Lady Phyllis 
emphatically, “but I really was most awfully in love 
with him. If he left my presence for a minute, I thought 
I should never see him again — and I would have blacked 
his boots all my life, or scrubbed his floors, sooner than 
have been separated from him. I was mad — I ought 
to have been strangled — I didn’t know what I was 
about.” 

“Then you don’t feel like that now, Phyllis ?” inquired 
her sister wistfully. 

“My dear child, is it likely? Do you suppose such 
feelings ever last. How could the world go round if 
they did ? No, of course they don’t. I’m very fond of 


LADY PHYLLIS DISCOURSES ON MARRIAGE. 45 


him, and all that sort of thing — but the gilt is off the 
gingerbread.” 

‘‘Oh, Phyllis!” said Nelly, in a tone of disappointment. 

“ It is rather difficult to explain to you, Nelly, what I 
mean, but we women marry blindfold. We know nothing 
— we take everything for granted — we are as ignorant as 
little children, who never even ask who pays for the 
bread and butter which they eat. Girls are kept shame- 
fully in the dark with regard to everything which con- 
cerns their happiness. Now just look at me. I left home 
with Ronald when I was eighteen. For months afterward 
he literally lay at my feet! He scarcely left me for a minute 
— he spent all the days and nights in caressing and flatter- 
ing me — calling me the most absurd names — devouring 
me with his eyes — lavishing everything upon me that he 
could purchase — swearing that my society was all he 
should ever desire. Well, I believed him. He is much 
older than myself, and had seen the world, and I thought 
he meant what he said.” 

“And didn’t he ?” cried Helen. “I thought Ronald 
was so fond of you.” 

“And so he is, my dear. I told you, you would never 
understand. We are fond of each other, but it is not 
the same thing — it has not been for a long time. Ronald 
could do very well without me now, — I mean of course 
for a little while, — so could I without him. And yet we 
are tied together not only for life, but for every hour in 
the day. He won’t let me go anywhere without him — 
I mean to a theater or an evening party;' he must 
always be there to look after me; and we drive' together, 
and dine together, and go to chuit:h together; in fact 
we are always together.” 

“Oh, but that must be so nice,” said Lady Helen, 
“to have someone who loves you to take care of you 
always.” 

“Yes, that is what women think before marriage, and 
so it is nice for a while. But wait till it has become 
monotonous — till you feel like a child of two years old, 
having always to ask, ‘ May I do this, please ? May I 
go there ? May I know that person, or accept a present 
from this ? ’ Oh, it is sickening. Wait till you try it, 


46 


AT HEART A RAKE. 


Nell, and then tell me if you think it nice. Why, I have 
not an intimate friend except my husband. I never 
speak to another man, except at a dinner party, or in 
the intervals of a dance. Ronald doesn’t even like that 
wretched little Percy Sefton coming to the house often. 
He is constantly sneering about his ‘sitting in my 
pocket ’ as he calls it. Last evening he left me at the 
Gaiety in a huff, because Percy came into our box. It 
is ridiculous. How is one ever to gain any knowledge 
of the world, of men or manners, at this rate ? If your 
husband is a politician, you hear of nothing but politics; 
if a dramatist, of nothing but the stage; if a musician, 
of music — never mind how little you may care about such 
things yourself. And since Ronald is nothing but a 
student, and always absorbed in some stuffy old author, 
like Ruskin or Macaulay, why, I learn nothing at all, 
which makes my life, on the whole, a lively one.” 

“And most people would say you must lead one of 
the gayest and happiest lives in the world!” sighed 
Nelly, as she rolled round the long tresses of Lady 
Phyllis’ hair, and pinned it into a loose knot at the back 
of her head. 

“So it is, both gay and happy, but there is no charm 
in it, no interchange of thought, no healthy excitement 
of any kind. I often think I should have more pleasure 
in teaching poor children or nursing sick people, or look- 
ing after dogs and cats, than in my life. Who is the 
better for it ? What have I to show for it ? What prog- 
ress do I make in anything? I am only a goods and 
chattel; something to be fed and provided for; that must 
look ornamental for the credit of my husband, just as 
his horses must be well groomed and caparisoned — but 
a nonentity, all the same — a child dependent on its 
guardian for both mental and bodily sustenance — not 
an individual, with personal feelings, and responsibili- 
ties; individual likes and dislikes; capability of judgment 
and power of decision.” 

“Have you told all this to Ronald?” asked her 
sister. 

“ I said something like it last night and there was a 
row, which is the principal reason I came down here in 


LADY PHYLLIS DISCOURSES ON MARRIAGE. 4 > 

such a hurry to-day. He called me mad and made sun- 
dry other opprobrious insinuations, and I told him to get 
out of my room, which I must say he did ; for Ronald is 
a gentleman, though he does not understand me. So he 
suggested my coming down to Sed^eley to cool myself, 
and if it were not for my engagements I should stay 
a month, just to punish him.” 

“Oh, Phyllis! and have you really quarreled then?” 
demanded Lady Helen. 

“ Nothing of the sort! We embraced on parting, just 
the same as usual. But I should like to pay my gentle- 
man out a bit, all the same. And to-night, he is doubt- 
less enjoying himself with his beloved Leytons.” 

“ Who are the Leytons, dear ? ” 

“Oh, a fusty old couple ! some of Ronald’s particular 
friends, to whom he always flies when he is out of 
temper. He can have particular friends and visit them 
whenever he thinks fit, of course, though I may do noth- 
ing of the kind. Mrs. Leyton is simply hideous, with a 
nose like a crane, and no figure at all ; but she sings 
divinely — so Ronald says — so he goes to hear his divinity 
screech away his megrims. Much good may it do him,” 
concluded lovely Lady Phyllis, with a moue that bespoke 
anything but indifference. 

“ But don’t you know Mrs. Leyton, Phyllis ? ” said Lady 
Helen. 

“ Oh, yes ! I know her to speak to ; we have exchanged 
calls ; but Ronald knew them long before he did me, and 
says they are his best friends. / can’t see anything in 
them. Dr. Leyton is a regular stick, who can talk about 
nothing but his old medicine bottles, and she is an awful 
dowdy — I never saw her in a decent dress yet ; and they 
have four horrible children who are always en hidence 
when one calls, lolling all over the sofas and chairs — Mrs. 
Leyton’s ideas of a mother’s duty being to live with her 
offspring from morning till night. I hate the whole lot 
of them ; but Ronald likes them, so of course he goes 
there whenever he feels inclined. I wonder what he 
would say if / set up some acquaintance of whom he did 
not approve, and insisted upon running off to see them 
whenever I chose ? ” 


48 


AT HEART A RAHE. 


^‘But then you see, Phyllis, dear, he is a man ” 

commenced Nelly remonstrati vely. 

“Now you are using one of the arguments of the 
world, Nell,” interrupted Lady Phyllis. “What has the 
fact of his being a man to do with the matter ? Why, 
because he is a man, is he to have social privileges denied 
to me ? If you were speaking of his cycling, or foot- 
ball, or shooting, or any of the other amusements which 
are fitted only for men, I could see the sense of your 
argument, but not in this case. He chooses the friends 
who suit him best ; why should I not do the same ? And 
yet, last year, when I wanted to visit Miss Rachel Ingle- 
field, the actress, he forbid my doing so — not on her 
account, but for fear I should meet anyone at her house 
of whom his royal highness might not approve, /was 
not supposed to have any power of discrimination. 1 
was not considered fit to judge of whom I might, and 
whom I might not, admit to my own house. No, my 
lord and master was the only person to decide such 
a question, and the child of two years old was to submit. 
He does not treat me like a reasonable creature — no men 
treat their wives so ; and so, if they are deceived, they 
have only themselves to thank for it.” 

“No, no, Phyllis ! you would never do that!” cried 
Nelly hastily. 

“ I am not sure. The necessity has not arisen yet, 
but it may. I do not intend to remain a child forever, 
and that I can tell you. When Ronald goes to the 
moors this year, I should prefer to spend the time in 
Paris — he knows I hate Scotland — but he refuses to let 
me leave him. All for his own selfish pleasure ! He 
thinks I can make the shooting box more agreeable to his 
friends. Aly wishes are not considered — only his own. 
Now, is that fair ? Lord and master, indeed ! I don’t 
know about ‘ lord,’ but ‘master ’ fits them to a T. I tell 
you, Nelly, wife is another name for slave. There’s noth- 
ing to choose between them.” 

“Oh, Phyllis, darling ! you don’t mean half you say,” 
said Nelly, smiling into her sister’s face. But Phyllis did 
not return the smile. 

“Do I not? That’s all you know about it, Nell. 


lady PHYLLIS DISCOURSES ON MARRIAGE. 49 

Ronald advised me to come down here for a little fresh 
air, but I did it far more to have a good ‘ think ’ over 
these things, and then, when I return to town, I will have 
it out with him.” 

“ No, no ! darling, don’t ! Consider rather what a 
terrible thing it would be if you and Ronald, whom you 
love so dearly, really quarreled — how miserable you 
would be without each other — what a loss it would be to 
sweet little Roy if his parents were at loggerheads. 
Why, you both idolize Roy. What would you do if any- 
thing happened to separate you. YOu couldn’t cut him 
in half, you know, and I am sure neither of you could be 
happy without him. And you love Ronald too much to 
dream of displeasing him seriously — now, confess, Phyllis, 
that you do,” said Lady Helen playfully, as she put her 
hand under his sister’s chin and turned the beautiful face 
up to her own. To her surprise. Lady Phyllis’ eyes were 
full of tears. The sight made Nelly throw herself into 
her arms and kiss her vehemently. 

“ I knew you did — I knew you did ! ” she exclaimed, as 
she pressed her sister to her breast. ‘ ‘ Why, Phyllis, if you 
and Ronald quarreled, after all I have heard and seen of 
your mutual affection, I should never have any faith in 
love again.” 


CHAPTER V. 


Nell’s secret disappointment. 

The following morning, Lady Phyllis seemed surpris- 
ingly light-hearted and gay. She ran into the breakfast 
room like a girl of sixteen ; chatted freely with her father 
and sisters ; ate with a good appetite whatever was set 
before her ; and declared her intention of starting in the 
pony cart, in company with her sister Helen, directly 
after breakfast, for a long day on the Barstead Rocks. 

“It seems an age since I saw the lovely place,” she 
exclaimed ; “and I have a thousand things to say to 
Nelly. Aunt Kate, cannot you give us a hunch of bread 
and cheese to take with us, and then we need not be 
particular about coming back in time for luncheon ? ” 

“Bread and cheese!” echoed Lady Catherine. “I 
expect you mean pdte de fois gras and champagne, 
Phyllis ! I think anyway we can manage to let you have 
some cold chicken, but you must ask Camilla. She is the 
housekeeper, you know.” 

On which Lady Camilla said, with a grim smile, that 
she hardly thought Phyllis would care for the contents of 
their larder, but of course she could take what she chose ; 
though, for her own part, she did not %ee the sense of 
lunching on those dirty old rocks, when one might eat 
in comfort at home. 

“Oh, you don’t understand I ” replied Phyllis. “It’s 
Nelly — not the rocks — and the lovely sense of being in 
the open air, far away from chairs and tables. I’ve been 
invited to two river picnics this year, but I refused both. 
I don’t care for them when you have to dress and make 
a fuss. But, with Nell to talk to, it will be delightful.” 

Notwithstanding that they professed to despise Lady 
Phyllis’ good fortune, and to run down the advantages 


50 


NELVS SECRET DISAPPOINTMENT. 51 

of her marriage, the Ladies Powell were very jealous of 
her openly expressed preference for the society of her 
sister Helen. They were curious to hear all about her 
London life ; to find out if there were any chance of their 
being asked to share it ; to enlighten her with respect to 
their own poverty ; to induce her, perhaps, to offer them 
assistance. But she did not give them the slightest 
encouragement to confide in her, she did not appeal to 
them for sympathy or congratulation — one might have 
thought, they said to each other, that Helen was the 
only sister she possessed ; the fact being that, in the 
days gone by, the four elder sisters had left the two 
younger ones out of everything. If there were an indul- 
gence to be obtained, a pleasure to be had, a little extra 
coin to be extracted, they had the benefit of it, and Nelly 
and Phyllis had to make the best of going without. 
They had received the news of Lady Phyllis’ marriage 
as an injury to themselves ; had thrown every obstacle 
in the way that they could think of ; had abused the 
bridegroom for being beneath them, the bride for having 
no sense of what was due to her family honor ; and Lady 
Phyllis had not forgotten it. She would have done any- 
thing to gain her father’s consent to Helen living with 
her altogether, but she made no proposal with regard to 
any of the others. 

And now, when, having obtained the little basket of 
cold chicken and home-made cakes she sprung lightly into 
the pony trap and drove away smiling, they abused her 
for it to their hearts’ content. 

“ So like Phyllis ! ” observed Lady Winifred. • “ Making 
a parade of simplicity and ingenuousness. It was by such 
artifices that she caught that silly Macnaughten. But 
she was younger then. She forgets that those airs don’t 
sit so well on a woman of twenty-two as on a girl of 
eighteen.” 

“And a mother into the bargain,” added Lady 
Camilla. “If she must tear about the country in this 
mad fashion, why does she not bring her boy with her ? 
He would be some sort of protection at least. Who is 
to know what her real motive is, in coming down here 
without giving us any notice, and then spending none of 


52 


AT HEART A RAKE. 


her time in the house ? . Miss Phyllis was rather given to 
pranks in her maiden days.” 

‘‘And Helen would do anything she told her,” chimed 
in Lady Mary. “They always hunted in couples before 
Phyllis’ marriage. If she was cautioned not to mention 
whom they saw, or met, while driving, she would bite her 
tongue out before she would tell.” 

“Well, it’s not my idea of how a married woman 
should behave,” said Lady Camilla spitefully, “and if 
Mr. Macnaughten sanctions it, he ought to be ashamed 
of himself. Anyone could see that Phyllis is only mak- 
ing use of the Manor. She hasn’t come down for the 
pleasure of our company. She had some design in it, 
I am certain. Perhaps her husband doesn’t know that 
she is here at all. I don’t believe any of that nonsense 
about his having begged her to come. She looks as well 
as possible — better than usual, in my opinion. I never 
credit half she says.” 

But here, at the entrance of Lady Catherine Powell, 
the conversation was dropped. 

Meanwhile, Lady Phyllis and Lady Helen were pro- 
ceeding merrily in the direction of Barstead Rocks. 
Though the younger sister was far the handsomer of the 
two, they sufficiently resembled each other to make a 
very pretty pair as they jogged along in the little pony 
cart. Lady Phyllis Macnaughten’s chestnut hair, not 
dressed too skillfully by her sister’s hands, was filling up 
all the interstices of her broad hat, and straying over her 
neck and shoulders — her limpid hazel eyes were lighted 
up with pleasure at the novelty of the situation — her 
cheeks were tinged with a soft bloom — she looked the 
personification of girlish health and beauty — while Lady 
Helen almost vied with her in charm of appearance and 
expression. The few villagers who met them on the 
unfrequented road to Barstead Rocks took glowing 
accounts back to Sedgeley of the way they were dressed, 
and the way they smiled and nodded their heads. 

“And there was Lady Phyllis Macnaughten sitting by 
Lady Helen’s side, looking more beautiful than ever,” 
exclaimed one Sedgeley maiden who had encountered 
them; “and, oh, mother, they must be wearing big bows 


NELL'S SECRET DISAPPOINTMENT. 53 

and feathers in London now, for Lady Phyllis had the 
biggest hat I ever saw on her head, and such an enormous 
bow and three short black feathers, stuck straight up on 
end, and she smiled heavenly at me, though I don’t 
believe she knew who I am. But Lady Helen did, for 
she called out, ‘Well ! how are you, Bessy Wakefield, and 
all at home ? ’ and then was off like a dream.” 

The good mother, to whom Bessy related this fairy 
tale, thought it very strange that a great lady like Lady 
Phyllis Macnaughten did not bring her own carriage and 
horses with her when she visited Sedgeley, instead of 
being content to use that trumpery little cart ; but she 
bought a couple more yards of ribbon when next she went 
to the draper’s shop in the village, and presented herself 
in church the following Sunday with a bow on her bonnet 
which was sufficient to drive the whole congregation cut 
of the sacred edifice. 

Barstead Rocks had been a favorite haunt of Phyllis 
and Helen when they were girls at home together. It 
lay about three or four miles away from Sedgeley, and 
was a very solitary place. A sandy, up-hill road wound 
for miles along a barren gully, or ravine, which was sur- 
rounded by the black, frowning rocks which weVe named 
Barstead. No village or habitation was near them, 
and if one met a laden wagon crawling along the road on 
its way to the nearest town, it was as much as one would 
do. For its solitariness, as well as for a horrible crime that 
had been committed there, many years before, Barstead 
Rocks had gained a bad name, and no villager traversed 
its lonely thoroughfare unless business compelled, hint to 
do so. In the center of the road, but toward the edge of 
the deep gully, was raised a rude stone to the memory 
of a sailor who had been murdered there. On the rough 
monument was engraven : “This stone was raised to 
mark the spot where an unknown sailor was found brutally 
murdered, on the loth of June, 1772, by two men, Aaron 
Twellow and William Mersey, who expiated their crime 
on the gallows at Lorpington, in September of the same 
year.” 

Standing by this stone one could look down into the 
heart of the ravine, which, though too rocky to be arable, 


54 


AT HEART A RAKE. 


was rich in ivy, and ferns, and lichens of various forms 
and colors. As they approached the spot Lady Phyllis 
asked her sister to stop and let her get down. 

Let us walk along this road, Nelly, and lead old 
Tommy. I always thought this was the prettiest part of 
the ravine. How glorious the yellow broom smells, and 
what a lot of blue speedwell there is! I remember how 
this place used to make me tremble when I thought of 
the poor unknown sailor, returning home perhaps with 
his little bit of pay or prize money, and then those two 
brutes, Aaron Twellow and William Mersey, coming upon 
him in this lonely place and murdering him without a soul 
to help. I know once, when I had ridden out here by my- 
self on the gray pony, and had loitered about, thinking 
of it all, and suddenly looked up and saw a man coming 
round that corner of the road on his way home, I was 
so frightened lest another stone might have to be erected 
to an unknown lady that I galloped home as hard as ever 
I could. And the murderer was only Ben Harris, after all. ” 

‘‘You were always a nervous, excitable creature, 
Phyllis,” replied Nelly, laughing; “but this stone is 
enough to make an impression upon anyone. I have 
always thought that the poor sailor being ‘ unknown,* 
and remaining unknown, is so sad. Did they never find 
out who he was then ? Was he of so little consequence 
that no one took the trouble to inquire ? Had he no 
friends to ask why he never came home ? no wife, nor 
child, nor parents?” 

“ But you must remember that the murder took place 
in the eighteenth century, Nelly, when crimes were not 
so easily tracked as now, and when this part of the coun- 
try was far more lonely and unguarded than it is at 
present. I dare say the poor sailor was miles away from 
his destination. Perhaps his family did not know he 
was on his way home — never heard of him again and be- 
lieved him to have been lost at sea. Those were not the 
days of railroads and electric telegraphs, of police super- 
vision and county councils, remember. The murder of 
an unknown person might happen in a desolate district 
even to-day ; how much more likely, then, a hundred 
years ago ! ” 


NELVS SECRET DISAPPOINTMENT. 


55 


‘‘But it doesn’t do away with the sadness of it,” replied 
her sister ; “ and remembering it makes one think of the 
many tragedies that happen in lowly life — that happen 
indeed, and are happening at this very moment, all over 
the world, of which one does not hear. How much 
sorrow is borne of which we know nothing ! How many 
tears are shed which we never see ! ” 

“Yes, you are right,” said Lady Phyllis thoughtfully, 
“and not in the lowly classes only, Nelly. Trouble is, 
universal. It attacks us all alike.” 

“How thankful we ought to be when we have no real 
trouble, Phyllis — only such as we make for ourselves.” 

The girls were walking along the sandy road now, lead- 
ing the rough pony after them, and at her sister’s words 
Lady Phyllis turned round smartly and asked : 

“ Is that meant for a hit at me, Nelly ? ” 

Lady Helen laughed. 

“ Not exactly, or at all events I did not think you 
would wear the cap so quickly. But I have been thinking 
since our talk last night, Phyllis, that if you knew of my 
troubles, your own would seem much smaller beside 
them.” 

Your troubles?” exclaimed Phyllis, looking Nelly 
full in the face. “Why, my dear child, what on earth 
Q,2i^you have to trouble you ?” 

“That is what each one of us says of the other, 
Phyllis.” 

“ you have no husband ” 

“ Perhaps that is the very thing which troubles me.” 

“Now, don’t jest, Nelly! Be serious.” 

“I am serious, dear. I didn’t mean to tell you any- 
thing about it, because it is all over, and there is no 
remedy. But when I heard you speak of your own life, 
and you seemed to make so much of little restrictions 
and crosses, I made up my mind to tell you, if only to 
prove to you that there are as many disappointments 
in single as in married lives. Yes, Phyllis, I have ex- 
perienced that awfully sentimental thing — a disappoint- 
ment in love ; and if you knew the purgatory my sisters 
have contrived to make my life for me ever since, you 
would pity me.” 


AT HEART A RAKE, 


56 

“ My poor Nelly,” exclaimed Lady Phyllis, kissing her 
sister ; “ who was the man ? ” 

“ You had better let that question rest, Phyllis. I shall 
get no sympathy from you there. I have been in love, 
and I have been disappointed. Isn’t that enough ? ” 

“No, not half enough for me. I must know who he 
is. Do tell me ! ” 

“Well, I warn you that it will not mend matters be- 
tween us. Papa was so angry that he said the first person 
who mentioned his name should leave the house.’’’ 

“ Never mind that. Papa is not here now, and we are 
just the two dearest friends in all the world.” 

“Ah ! that reassures me. Yes, darling, I will trust 
your love and tell you everything. It was Mr. Frederick 
Arbuthnott, the solicitor’s son.” 

“Oh, Nelly!” 

“ I knew just what you would say ; but listen a moment 
first. He is a gentleman, and . an earl cannot be more. 
He came here often to transact business with papa, when 
old Mr. Arbuthnott was laid up with influenza, and we 
saw a good deal of each other. He is not a solicitor, 
like his father — he is a barrister, and has been called to 
the bar. I knew he was not what people would call a 
suitable match for me, but at all events he could have 
supported me, and we cared for each other; so I en- 
couraged him to ask my father to let us be engaged. 
But, oh, Phyllis, the hurricane that ensued ! It was not 
only papa, they were all at me — sisters and aunt together, 
till I wished I had never seen the man. Papa would not 
even listen, either to Mr. Arbuthnott or to me. He said 
it was the greatest insult that had ever been offered his 
family. He ordered Mr. Arbuthnott out of the house, 
and told me I might just as well have asked his permis- 
sion to marry the groom. There was not an atom of 
sympathy with my disappointment, Phyllis, or kindly 
endeavor to make me see the folly of my desire — only 
hard, virulent abuse and contempt. The girls were 
almost worse in their way ; for though papa did storm 
and rave in a most unconscionable manner for a few 
hours, he has dropped the subject, while they never seem 
to know when to let it alone. And no one has been 


NELLS SECRET DISAPPOINTMENT. $7 

quite the same to me since — not papa, nor the rest. They 
look on me as something disreputable, I think.” 

‘‘It ts a shame,” replied Lady Phyllis consolingly, 
“but I understand my father’s obstinate refusal to your 
coming to town better now, Nelly. He is afraid you 
will meet Mr. Arbuthnott again.” 

“I suppose so,” said her sister, in a melancholy 
voice. “But he need not be. Frederick — that is, Mr. 
Arbuthnott — is far too honorable, not to say proud, to 
attempt to make me do anything contrary to my father’s 
wishes. What would be the use of it ? We could not 
marry without papa’s consent.” 

“Mr. Arbuthnott might rise to the Woolsack, who 
knows?” observed Lady Phyllis thoughtfully. “There 
is no saying nowadays what these clever men may not 
accomplish. I think papa might have let you be engaged 
to him, faufe de mieux^ till he saw of what he is capable.” 

“ Oh, Phyllis, pray don’t talk of him any more ! There 
is not the least bit of hope for us, I am perfectly aware 
of that — and I only mentioned it to let you see that other 
people have their troubles as well as you, you lucky 
girl ! ” 

“I understand that, and I dare say I am more lucky 
than I deserve. But, Nelly, no one feels where the shoe 
pinches but him who wears it; and things that seem mere 
trifles in the repetition may sting very acutely when 
they occur. I don’t wish to depreciate a grief like 
yours, — it must be terrible to bear, — but the everyday 
worries wear one out more, after all.” 

“ We have everyday worries, too, at Sedgeley Manor,” 
replied Lady Helen. “If you knew what Camilla’s temper 
has grown to, you would be astonished. Of course she 
is on her best behavior when you come down for a day, 
but if you stayed here for a few weeks, you would say it 
was almost unbearable. Winny and Mary have turned 
ddvotes^ you know — they are always at prayers together, or 
in church, or among the poor. It is very good of them, 
doubtless, but still there are so many things to be done 
at home that their charity might find as good a scope 
for. Rose professes to care for nothing but music, and 
so she is eternally practicing her classical sonatas on our 


58 


AT HEART A RAKE. 


tinkling old piano, and I am left almost to myself. If 
there were only a library near at hand ; or any classes 
for literature, or science, or even dressmaking, I might 
manage to fill up my time, but there is nothing to do 
down here — positively nothing — except to eat out one’s 
heart in fruitless longings that will never be satisfied.” 

“My poor Nelly !” repeated Lady Phyllis. “And yet 
you won’t let me help you by a little of that money of 
which I have so much more than I require.” 

“How would that help me, darling? How could I 
spend it without papa or the girls finding out that you 
had sent it to me. Papa, though he appears to have no 
eyes or ears for anything that does not concern his 
farmyard, is most keen-sighted about such things. If 
we put on a new tie or pair of gloves, he always says, 

‘ Hullo ! where did you get that from ? Is it paid for ? 
How much did it cost ? ’ etc. And he would never 
forgive me for taking Mr. Macnaughten’s money.” 

“Well, then, Nelly, let me send you some books,” 
said Lady Phyllis; “a nice selection of the newest works, 
to fill your bookcase — will you ? Ronald shall choose 
them. He knows every new book that issues from the 
press.” 

“Oh, Phyllis! it is too good of you, and I shall not 
refuse your kindness, you may be sure. I think some 
books would do more to distract my thoughts just now 
than anything else. But oh, how I wish I had any solid 
work — work that would do some good in the world, and 
make me feel that I was of use, instead of idling away 
my life in this manner 1 ” 

“That is what all women are calling out for, Nelly, 
and what all men are doing their best to prevent their 
having. They want to keep them down to be the same 
silly, frivolous, useless creatures forever. But it is only 
their selfishness, lest the women should rival them in 
money-making, and it will recoil on their own heads. If 
they will not let us do useful things, we shall take to 
mischievous ones — you will see that.” 

“ Not much chance of our doing either, down in this 
hole,” sighed Lady Helen. “ Sometimes I think a trades- 
man’s wife, who helps her husband to weigh bacon and 


NELLS SECRET DISAPPOINTMENT. 


59 


cheese and serve behind the counter, must have an 
easier, more self-satisfied conscience, than we idle, useless 
women of fashion.” 

“Just what I said yesterday, and you laughed at me 
for. Miss Nelly,” replied her sister playfully. 

“Perhaps I did, dear, but for you, it seemed such a 
ridiculous idea — you, with your husband and your boy, 
and your overplus of this world’s goods ” 

“And my discontent with it all, Nell,” interrupted Lady 
Phyllis. “No! my dear, you don’t get out of it that way. 
We are both suffering from the same disease, — dissatisfac- 
tion with life, as it is presented to us, — and we shall never 
be cured till we have found our proper work to do. I dare 
say it lies close to our hands, but our eyes cannot per- 
ceive it; so it comes to the same thing. But I would 
bear twice my own worries, dear, if I could relieve you 
of yours.” 

They were sitting under the shadow of one of the 
huge rocks eating their luncheon as they spoke thus; and 
as they rose to go back to the Manor, Lady Phyllis felt 
that she knew more of her sister’s heart than she had 
ever done before. 

She returned to London on the following day, in a much 
more contented frame of mind than when she had left it. 
She had gained an insight into the working of her girl- 
hood’s home, and it had revolted her. She felt that she 
could never go back to such a life — that her present one 
opened out possibilities of a far more extended sphere of 
action — of greater interests, of more liberty and freedom, 
more sympathy and affection. ' She started from Hill- 
ford station looking radiant — smiling her farewells to 
poor, disconsolate Lady Helen, standing on the platform, 
with her eyes full of unshed tears — as if she were the 
happiest woman in the world. And for a short space she 
was almost ready to confess she was so — for a short space 
the railway carriage seemed to be flying with her to an 
earthly paradise — the heaven where Ronald and her boy 
awaited her. But as the train drew nearer London, and 
the familiar landmarks appeared that she knew so well. 
Lady Phyllis’ spirits went down to zero again, and she 
could only recall the unpleasant scene that had taken 


6o 


AT HEART A RAKE. 


place two nights before. How would her husband receive 
her ? Would there be a repetition of their mutual 
reproaches? The pure air of Sedgeley seemed to be 
swallowed up and forgotten in the smoky atmosphere of 
London. 

The sight of Mr. Macnaughten on the Waterloo plat- 
form dispelled her anticipations of evil, and as he came 
forward with a bright smile to hand her from the carriage, 
apparently forgetful that anything unpleasant had taken 
place between them, she forgot it also. 

“Oh, Ronald! how good of you to come and meet 
me ! ” she exclaimed, as they entered their own carriage 
together. “ I did not expect you. I thought you would 
be at your club.” 

“I can give up my club once in a way,” he replied, 
“to come and meet my wife. Well, how have you 
enjoyed yourself? 'Do you feel any the better for your 
little trip ? How did you find your father and the girls ? ” 

His arm stole round her slender waist as he spoke, and 
Lady Phyllis leaned her head on his shoulder, and felt 
almost as if the old days had come over again, and 
Ronald and she were making love in the cozy corner of 
the Manor drawing room. She answered his questions 
without altering her position, and remained so until they 
had reached Hill Street. Then, as the door was opened, 
there was a scream of delight and a little figure came 
fluttering down the stairs to welcome her, and Lady 
Phyllis felt, for the moment, as if she could never again 
feel weary or discontented with her home life. 

Master Roy was permitted as a great treat, because 
mamma had come back, to sit up at the table with his 
parents during the dinner that succeeded Lady Phyllis’ 
return, and when the dessert was on the table she still 
sat with her baby on her lap, telling her husband of all 
that had happened during their short separation. This 
brought her to the subject of Lady Helen’s paucity of 
amusement and her desire to have some more books. 
“May I buy her a dozen or so, Ronald?” she asked. 
“They would be a boon to her in that God-forsaken 
place! She has a real taste for reading, as you have, but 
with no means of gratifying it.” 


NELL'S SECRET DISAPPOINTMENT. 6 1 

‘‘Of course, you may buy her as many as you like. 
Why should you ask my leave ? ” replied Macnaughten. 
“Spend fifty or sixty pounds on her, if you choose; or, if 
it will be any help to you, I will make a list of the works 
which I think will please her best, and send it to 
Mudie’s.” 

“Yes, that will be best! ” cried Phyllis, with sparkling 
eyes. “Nelly will go wild with joy. She seems very dull 
and very solitary down there. She cannot make friends 
with the others as she did with me. But then who 
could ? They are the most cross-grained set of old maids 
I ever saw.” 

“Aren’t you sorry that you ever left them ? ” demanded 
Macnaughten slyly. 

“ Not just at this moment! ” replied his wife, twitching 
her lips. 

The time came for Master Roy to be carried off, kick- 
ing and screaming, to bed, but still his parents sat over 
the fruit and wine, discussing any subject that came into 
their heads. Presently Macnaughten remarked, “By 
the way, Phyllis, I’m afraid you will have to give ‘up a 
certain acquaintance of yours — Lady Fearon. I’ve heard 
some queer things about her since you went away.” 

Lady Phyllis looked up quickly from her marrons 
glacis, as she replied ; 

“Lady Fearon! what on earth can you have heard 
about her 2 Who told you ? ” 

“Oh! my authority is good enough— Charlie Cran- 
mer — but it is not an on dit — it is a public scandal that 
everybody seems to know but ourselves. She was 
divorced from her former husband. Captain Nevil, on 
account of Sir Richard. He married her after the 
decree absolute had been passed.” 

“Well, what of that?” 

Macnaughten, who was a man of the most rigid 
principles with respect to women, gazed at his wife in 
amazement. 

^^What of that! Did I hear you aright, Phyllis? 
What of a divorced woman? Why, everything that is 
most scandalous and disgraceful! I will notallow you 
to receive Lady P'earon in this house again.” 


62 


AT HEART A RAKE, 


‘‘And how am I to prevent her coming here, consider- 
ing that they have dined with us and we with them ? 
Am I to go to her and say, ‘Oh! I beg your pardon, 
but Mr. Macnaughten has heard that you were divorced 
before you married Sir Richard, and so, although person- 
ally and socially we considered you quite on a level with 
ourselves, and took pleasure in your society, I must now 
request that you never show your face here again, 
because you are not the same woman that you were 
before.’ ” 

“My dear child, you do talk such nonsense when you 
get your ‘dander up,’” replied Macnaughten. “Of 
course I meant no such thing. You must not insult any- 
one after that fashion, but you can ease her off by 
degrees. Don’t call on her again, and, if she asks the 
reason (which she wofit, I bet), plead want of time — she’ll 
understand — and then, when the season ends, you can 
break with her altogether.” 

“But I shan’t do any such thing!” exclaimed Lady 
Phyllis. “I like Lady Fearon, and I mean to go on 
receiving her. Did you ask why she was divorced ? 
how her first husband treated her, to make her run away 
with Sir Richard ? Who, by the way, is a dear and quite 
worth running away with. Did Mr. Charlie What’s-his- 
name give you the particulars of the case ? ” 

“I did not ask him for them,” returned Macnaughten 
haughtily. “ It was sufficient for me that Lady Fearon is 
not a fit associate for you, and so I request that you will 
drop her acquaintance for the future.” 

“Am I to drop that of Lord Charteris at the same 
time ? ” asked Lady Phyllis quietly. 

“ What do you mean ? ” 

“I have heard you say that Lord Charteris was 
divorced from his wife because of the singer, Mme. 
Artini.” 

“Oh ! that’s an old story — happened in the year one.” 

“That makes no difference to its disgrace, Ronald. 
If I am to insult Lady Fearon, I shall do the same by 
Lord Charteris and say it is your wish.” 

“Phyllis, you talk like a child! You are utterly 
ignorant of the world’s verdicts. Lord Charteris is a 


NELUS SECRET DISAPPOINTMENT. 63 

man. You cannot judge him by the same standard as a 
woman.” 

‘‘ I should not. I should judge him by a far harder 
one: firstly, because he arrogates to himself a stronger 
mind as well as body; secondly, because he was the one 
to tempt and to betray. I should say that Lady Fearon, 
with her sweet ways and manners and appearance, was 
worth fifty of him.” 

“I am shocked to hear you speak in this way. 
Phyllis. It is not womanly — hardly decent. You are 
actually advocating, or appearing to advocate, the cause 
of a fallen woman.” 

“Oh, no! I am only wishful to accord her the same 
justice I would to a fallen man.” 

'‘^Fallen man! Absurd! Whoever heard of such a 
term before ? ” 

“Because there is no need to distinguish them, I sup- 
pose — because they are all fallen.” 

“ Come, Phyllis, don’t let us quarrel over such a trifle. 
You can’t really care for Lady Fearon. You have not 
seen her a dozen times. You can give her up quite 
easily, if you choose to do so.” 

“Perhaps; but I won’t give up my theory, Ronald. 
I won’t mete out one sort of justice to a woman and 
another to a man. I am enough of a New Woman for 
that. I like Lady Fearon — so I do Lord Charteris; 
if I must break with one, I will with the other. But I 
have not decided to give up Lady Fearon. Why should 
I ? If she has been divorced, what difference does it 
make to me ? In what way is she worse than the dozens 
of women whom I receive and whom you have told me 
yourself ought to be divorced, if they are not. It strikes 
me the honestly divorced woman is the preferable of the 
two. Besides, how do I know the treatment she received 
that led to it ? She may have been shamefully ill-used, 
as many wives are. She may have incurred cruelty or 
infidelity that would justify any woman in leaving a 
man — that would justify me, or anyone, in following her 
example.” 

“ Phyllis, Phyllis ! think of what you are saying ! ** 
cried Macnaughten, in horror. 


64 


AT HEART A RAHE, 


‘‘I do think of it,” she replied, “and I will not give 
up the acquaintance of Lady Fearon ! ” 

“You will ^2^7/ ^ ” exclaimed Macnaughten, with sud- 
denly rising temper ; “but I insist upon it. I will make 
you ! ” 

“Will you? How ?” asked his wife. 

Then he* perceived his helplessness and became 
appealing. 

“Oh, Phyllis ! don’t let us quarrel on the first evening 
of your return. Let us talk no more about it now. 
You will feel differently after a little reflection. You 
will see the reasonableness of my request. Come now ! 
Come and sit on my knee, like a good child !” 

He extended his arms to her as he spoke, and Lady 
Phyllis did as> he requested her. Love has a great many 
ups and downs — a great many quarrels and condonations 
— before it finally breaks its bonds; and these two young 
people had begun their married life with a large stock of 
the commodity. So Phyllis sat on her handsome hus- 
band’s knee and passed her fingers through his waving 
hair, and pressed her fair cheek against his own. And 
he believed that she saw the sense of his argument, 
though she was too proud to acknowledge herself in the 
wrong, and that he would have his own way in the matter 
by and by. 

And she was steadfastly resolved, meanwhile, that if 
Lady Fearon was to be struck off her visiting list. Lord 
Charteris should be so too. 


CHAPTER VI. 


MRS. BERNARD LEARNS HOW TO DECEIVE. 

Mrs. Bernard’s house in Moseley Gardens, Bays- 
water, was very different from that of Lady Phyllis 
Macnaughten in Hill street. It was an ordinarily sized, 
ordinarily furnished house, standing in a quiet byroad, 
sheltered by a row of limes. It might, spite of its 
deficiencies, have looked like the home of a gentleman, 
had its mistress possessed a little good taste. A few 
graceful palms, a vase or two of summer roses, a draped 
picture on an easel, or a piece of embroidery thrown 
across the sofa, would have transformed what was com- 
monplace into an elegant room. 

But Cissy had unfortunately been bitten with the 
mania of the age, to rival “The House Beautiful,” which 
apparently consists in the ideas of most women in cov- 
ering every available spot with colored art muslins — 
crowding their walls with cheap fans placed there, 
one would imagine, for the sole purpose of attracting 
flies and dust — and filling gaudy china flower-pots with 
artificial foliage plants, which they fondly believe their 
visitors mistake for real. 

There was not too much light to be seen through the 
rather dingy window panes, but such as there was was 
shrouded by thick damask curtains, supplemented by 
white muslin ones, so that the little drawing room was 
dark and gloomy even on a summer’s day. But although 
Cissy yearned for a larger and more fashionable resi- 
dence, she never dreamed of improving her present one. 
Her husband had married her out of the schoolroom — 
her mother, a widow with other children to provide for 
on a limited income, having thought her daughter a very 
fortunate girl to secure so stable a position as that 
of Colonel Bernard’s wife. And in her satisfaction at 


6s 


66 


AT HEART A RAKE. 


getting one of her encumbrances off her hands, Mrs. 
Brandon, like most other mothers with marriageable 
daughters, had never stopped to inquire into Colonel 
Bernard’s former life and character, nor to consider if 
his was a temperament likely to make her foolish, weak- 
minded, frivolous little Cissy a happy and respectable 
woman. For it is the husband who makes his wife either 
respectable or otherwise. 

Cissy, accordingly, was married and settled in Moseley 
Gardens — Colonel Bernard being one of those “ fish out 
of water,” a retired officer — to keep house for the re- 
mainder of her husband’s life, on the inadequate pension 
accorded to the defenders of our country. 

Now, there are no more difficult persons to get on 
with in domestic life than retired officers. They are the 
tyrants of household management — the murderers of all 
peace in kitchen or parlor ; it requires an old hand to 
deal successfully with their fads and fancies. They have 
so long been accustomed to exact explicit and prompt 
obedience from their soldiers that they expect the same 
from their wives and servants ; they have been com- 
pelled, under penalty of suffering for negligence them- 
selves, to keep so sharp a lookout for crookedly sewn-on 
buttons, dirty swords, and slovenly assumed uniforms, 
that their eyes are all over the place, to detect cobwebs 
and dusty corners, and they have been so used to mess 
dinners that they cannot put up with anything under 
French soups and ragouts. It takes, therefore, to quote 
from their own vocabulary, “an old soldier” to keep 
them in order ; in fact, it should be a case of “ diamond 
cut diamond.” And Cissy was not sharp enough to cut 
anything. 

Colonel Bernard was no exception to the general rule. 
He had never been married before. He had been a man 
of pleasure, and had always considered himself a great 
acquisition among the fair sex. He was also not a 
drunkard, but decidedly a hard drinker — a man who 
boasted that he could take any amount without its affect- 
ing his head — being ignorant the while, that in affecting 
his liver instead, it was driving the nails home in his 
coffin at the rate of two to one. 


MRS. BERNARD LEARNS HOW TO DECEIVE. 67 


At the age of fifty the colonel committed the most 
foolish action of his life. He retired from the army and 
married little Cissy Brandon. He thought it was time he 
rested on his laurels and settled down; so he turned his 
back on the glare and the glitter of army life, on the 
braying of the trumpets and the beating of the drums, on 
the artificial pomp and importance of his position as 
colonel of the Martineers, and immediately sunk into 
nothingness and oblivion — relinquished all the joys of his 
mess dinners and wines, all the satisfaction of posing be- 
fore the ladies as an eligible man, all the emolument aris- 
ing from being a colonel on full pay, in order to become 
idle and insignificant for the rest of his existence. 

Then his eyes fell upon innocent, ignorant Cecil 
Brandon, and he coveted her. It is always the way with 
these worn-out, dissipated, middle-aged men. They 
would reject the idea of marrying a middle-aged woman 
with scorn, but consider themselves to be quite suitable 
husbands for some young, unsophisticated girl, just 
because they are men^ and she a woman ! They think 
that their bloated, worn-out, and often diseased carcasses 
are more than a good exchange for her sweet, fresh love- 
liness, because they happen to have so many hundreds 
a year wherewith to purchase her charms. They may 
call the exchange by what name they choose, but the 
truth remains — so much money is given in barter for so 
much flesh; and while such a barbarous custom con- 
tinues to be upheld by the Church and state of a civilized 
country, parsons and members of Parliament should 
leave off preaching and speechifying about the horrors 
and cruelty of slavery. 

Until within the last ten years there have been no greater 
slaves than the married women of England, and unless 
they have money in their own right, or know how to make 
it, there are no greater slaves still. It is no refutation 
of the assertion to say that many among them have kind 
masters. So had many of the African slaves. That does 
not undo the fact of marriage, as it is now conducted, 
being a slavery from which women, under certain circum- 
stances, have no escape but one. And the truth of this 
lies in the fact that, as the world progresses and women 


68 


AT HEART A RAKE. 


become more enlightened, they accept that means of 
escape oftener than before, and will continue to do so 
until better and more just laws are made for their 
deliverance. 

So, also, had the lawgivers afforded the slaves a loop- 
hole of escape would they have seized it, even at the peril 
of starvation. They did seize it, whenever available, at 
the peril of their lives. 

Colonel and Mrs. Bernard, although married for little - 
more than a year, had already found out that they had 
made a mistake — and he had said it openly when there 
was no one but his wife to hear, though Cissy was too 
timid to do more than weep over it in secret. She was 
afraid of his bold, blustering manner, and he was the 
sort of man who kicked a dog the more it cringed to 
him. He had been used to flattery and admiration from 
women, and he missed it now that they no longer 
afforded it him. This was the reason of the broad smile 
he wore in public — the smile which Lady Phyllis said 
made him look like a wolf — but which he seldom dis- 
played in private, unless he was especially resolved to 
please. 

A few days after Phyllis had returned to Hill Street, 
Mrs. Bernard was moving in a fluttering, uncertain 
manner about her drawing room, touching a book here 
or an ornament there in a restless manner peculiarly her 
own — an aggravating manner indeed to most people, but 
very indicative, to those who read aright, that she was 
anxious or fidgety about something. Cissy was not a 
girl who ever went straight to the point — she was too 
cowardly ; but she got her own way, all the same, with- 
out it. Although so young — only twenty — and so weak- 
minded, she was more rash than many courageous 
women, because she always trusted to make a falsehood 
her shield. But people who lie have generally been 
driven into it by intimidation. A lie is the defense of 
the fearful. Give a liar confidence, and he has no use for 
his weapon. 

As she was thus occupied Colonel Bernard entered, 
dressed for walking, looking burly, well-satisfied, and red 
in the face, but without the society smile. That was 


MJ^S. BERNARD LEARNS HOW TO DECEIVE. 69 

only laid aside for the moment. He had it in his pocket, 
like the flower in his buttonhole. He was on his way to 
his club, and believed that he looked irresistible. 

“ What are you going to do this afternoon ? ” he asked 
of his wife, as if she had been a servant. 

“ I don’t know,” said Cissy hesitatingly. 

“You don’t know? Rubbish! When will you learn 
to have a mind of your own ? You must decide before 
I leave the house.” 

“Oh, well. I’ll — I’ll take a walk in Kensington 
Gardens.” 

“ With whom ? ” demanded the colonel. 

“ By myself, I suppose. I have no one to walk with.” 

“How often have I told you that you cannot walk by 
yourself? No lady does so. Do you remember that you 
are my wife — the wife of Colonel Bernard ? ” 

“ Oh, dear, yes; I never forget it ! ” 

“Then you will respect it in this case, if you please, 
and if you wish to walk take the housemaid with you,” 

“ Very well.” 

“Don’t stand there saying ‘very well ’ in that tone of 
voice to me! Obey what I tell you. That is the only 
thing you have to do.” 

“I have said I will obey it.” 

“ And don’t go on repeating your words in that imper- 
tinent manner. By Jove! if you don’t learn how to 
address me properly. I’ll make you.” 

Cissy did not answer. Her little hand, straying over 
the ornaments on the table, was shaking like an aspen 
leaf. 

“Why don’t you answer me?” roared the colonel; 
“ do you want me to shake the words out of you ? ” 

Cissy moved toward the mantel shelf and pulled the 
bell. 

“What is that for ? ” demanded her husband. 

“ For Jane to go out with me,” said Cissy. 

The colonel saw he was baffled of worrying his white 
slave any longer, so, turning round, he banged the door 
behind him and went noisily downstairs. 

In another minute Jane appeared to ask what her 
mistress wanted. 


70 


A r HEART A RAKE. 


*^The colonel was here,” replied Cissy significantly. 

“And a-worrying of you agen,” said the maid, in 
a sympathizing tone; “it is a shame! What you do 
bear from him, beats me. I’m sure if I was married to 
a costermonger, and he served me half what the colonel 
do you. I’d leave him for good and all, that I would, if 
I had to beg my bread from door to door for it ! ” 

Mrs. Bernard smiled in a superior manner. 

“ That would be foolish, Jane. We all have some- 
thing to bear in this world, and it’s no use trying to run 
away from it. But have you much to do this after- 
noon ? ” 

“ Lor’, yes, ma’am. It’s Friday, you know, the day 
for my fine things, and there’s more than usual this week. 
Did you want me for anything, ma’am ? ” 

“ No, Jane; but I want a breath of fresh air, and the 
colonel says I must not go out in the Gardens without 
you. It’s really unreasonable to expect you to do your 
work and trot about after me as well. But gentlemen 
know nothing about household matters.” 

“ It strikes me as the colonel knows a deal too much,” 
muttered the servant. 

“ Never mind; we must forgive him, Jane. But if he 
finds out that I went without you, he will be angry with 
me, so you won’t say anything — you understand, don’t 
you — to let him think that — that ” 

“I stayed at home to do my work. Of course not, 
ma’am. If he asks me anything about it. I’ll swear just 
the contrary, you may depend. What right have a 
gentleman to go prying about like that ? And it’s 
ridikilous to think as a married lady can’t go and come 
in her own house, as she chooses. If the master is so 
partikeler, why don’t he stop at home and take you him- 
self ? But there’s nothing won’t keep him from that 
blessed old club! Why, when we thought you was dying 
of the brownchitis, and Dr. Greenslade said as there was 
grave danger, the colonel went to his club every day just 
the same as usual, and that I can swear to.” 

“Never mind, Jane. You can go back to your work. 
I shall not be gone more than an hour. But if anything 
should happen — if he should return home unexpectedly — 


MRS. BERNARD LEARNS HOW TO DECEIVE. ?! 

you will say I went out with Mrs. Warrington, won’t 
you?” 

“ Of course I will, ma’am. I’ll say she called jest as 
we was starting, and so I stayed behind to finish my 
work. But, bless you, he won’t come back before his 
dinner time. He’s amusing himself too well for that.” 

I wonder, if we could only hear all our servants say of 
us — the terms in which they discuss our foibles, the con- 
tempt with which they mention our failings, the famili- 
arity with which they pass comment on our appearance 
and manners, the acuteness with which they detect our 
secret sins and weaknesses — if we should ever keep one 
in our service. We are aware, if we have any of this 
world’s wisdom, that our equals know as much about us 
as we do ourselves; but it is doubly humiliating to hear 
those whom we style our inferiors speak as if they held 
us in the supremest scorn. 

Silly Cissy Bernard had shown the wisdom of the ser- 
pent in conducting these two interviews. She had. not 
displayed any temper in answering her husband, and she 
had upheld his dignity before her servant. In conse- 
quence, the one had left her without the least suspicion, 
and the other went downstairs to say that, “ Missus was 
ever so much too good for master, and she wondered 
how she could put up with him, that she did !” 

And then Cissy went up to her bedroom and put on a 
fetching hat, and lace cape, and a pair of, primrose-col- 
ored gloves, and sallied out into the Broad Walk. She 
sauntered up and down two or three times in an appar- 
ently aimless manner, until she caught sight of the ap- 
proaching figure of a man, when she turned aside — so 
quietly and naturally — till she had gained the shelter of 
the trees, where he joined her. He was a nice-looking 
fellow, not handsome, but fresh in dress and appearance, 
and he appeared particularly pleased to meet Cissy. As 
soon as they were beyond the observation of the nurse- 
maids and children crowding the Broad Walk, she held 
out her hand to him, and he grasped it firmly., 

“ So glad to see you ! ” he exclaimed. “ I was waiting 
here from three o’clock to six, yesterday afternoon, in 
the hope of meeting you. How is it you did not come ? ” 


72 


AT HEART A RAKE. 


could not possibly leave home, Captain Austin, 
she replied. “A cousin of Colonel Bernard’s came to 
luncheon and stayed the whole afternoon, and I had no 
excuse for leaving her. It was such a disappointment,’ 
continued Cissy, with a fascinating little smile. 

“Why doesn’t he stop at home and entertain his own 
cousins ? ” asked Captain Austin. 

“ Oh, he wouldn’t do that ! I don’t believe he would 
miss going to his club if we were all dying. He took it 
into his head to-day that it was not proper for me to 
walk out without the housemaid. But I ‘ squared ’ her, 
as soon as he was out of sight. Fortunately for me, 
Jane has a sweetheart, and she has him in sometimes 
of an evening, strictly, of course, against the colonel’s 
orders. But I never tell of her, and so, you see, she 
never tells of me. Dreadful, isn’t it ? ” said Cissy, twist- 
ing up her little mouth ; “but if I didn’t hoodwink him 
a little, I should never get out at all.” 

“You’re perfectly right,” acquiesced Captain Austin. 
“ Such a man deserves to be hoodwinked. Fancy having 
a wife like you and leaving her, day after day, to her own 
devices ! He ought to be shot ! ” 

“ Well, I manage to amuse myself, don’t I ? But if it 
hadn’t been for your kindness in defraying all my fees 
for the club, I don’t know how I should ever have got in. 
Do you know, I can’t get even my rightful pin money out 
of Colonel Bernard. He has always some excuse ready 
for not paying me. Either an unexpected bill or a loss 
of some kind — and yet I saw an entry in his account book 
the other day of three guineas for a lunch at the Holborn 
Isn’t it a shame ? ” 

“He’s a brute !” was the emphatic rejoinder of her 
companion. “ He was always reckoned a skinflint in the 
army, and none of his old brother officers speak well of 
him. I know several men in his corps. You get plenty 
of pity among them, I can tell you.” 

“ Oh, I don’t want anybody’s pity,” replied Cissy, 
pouting. “ I suppose he must die some day, and 
then ” 

“What then?” demanded the captain, looking into 
her eyes. 


MJ?S. BERNARD LEARNS HOW TO DECEIVE. 73 

I shall be my own mistress, and able to do as I 
choose,” she replied. 

“ Let us pray it may be soon,” said Captain Austin. 

“ I met such a dear old friend of mine the other even- 
ing,” continued Cissy presently. “Oh, such a pretty 
woman — we were at school together — Lady Phyllis 
Macnaughten. If you saw her, you would never look at 
me again.” 

“You think so, do you? Is your beauty married or 
single ? ” 

“Oh, married ! She is one of Lord Lisnor’s daugh- 
ters.” 

“ And is she coming to see you ? ” 

“Very soon, she said. And I have received a card 
from her since. She is always ‘ At Home ’ on Thursdays 
during the season. I shall visit her soon. I believe she 
has a lovely house in Hill Street. You must go there, 
too. I shall introduce you to her.” 

“ I would rather not. And let me caution you, Mrs. 
Bernard, not to be too confidential with this new-found 
friend of yours. Schoolgirl friendships are very different 
from those of married women. This lady ' may have 
altered in character since you met her last. Keep your 
own council — that is, unless you want to get into a 
scrape. That is my advice to you.” 

“ Oh, you don’t know Phyllis, or you wouldn’t say so. 
She is the most natural, unaffected girl in the world, and 
would die sooner than betray a confidence. ‘ Not that I 
intend to tell her everything at once, of course, but — 
about the club, for instance, it is sure to come out 
sooner or later. Indeed, I have set my heart on per- 
suading her to become a member of it.” 

“ She will never do any such thing,” replied Captain 
Austin. “It is not for women of birth like Lady Phyllis 
Macnaughten.” 

“Oh, excuse me, but we have several ladies of title 
among our members,” interposed Cissy hastily. “ Lady 
Barton is our president, you know, and on the committee 
we have Lady Alexander Fox and Lady Matthew Win- 
terton.” 

“ Lady Alexander Fox ! ” repeated her friend in a tone 


74 


AT HEART A RAKE. 


of utter contempt, “You had better not mention her 
name as a bait to your intending subscribers. Why, 
Lady Alexander Fox is the heroine of one of the nastiest 
divorce cases that ever came before the public.” 

“ Indeed, you must be mistaken ! ” exclaimed Cissy 
earnestly. “ I am sure Lady Alexander has not been 
divorced, for Lady Barton and the committee are so very 
particular ” 

“I know she has not been divorced, my dear child,” 
said Captain Austin ; “but she should have been. She 
only got off by the skin of her teeth. Her husband. Lord 
Alexander, brought five co-respondents into court against 
her, and the cases were well proved, only, unfortunately, 
he was found at the last moment to have been as bad as 
she was ; and so neither, according to the good old laws 
of England, could get released from the other. But that 
fact does not whiten Lady Alexander, who, by all ac- 
counts, should have had fifty co-respondents instead of 
five. They can only have let her into the club on account 
of her title.” 

“ I am surprised at that,” said Cissy, in her silly way, 
“because she and Miss Noble are such close friends.” 

“ Miss Noble ! there’s another nice woman ! ” cried the 
captain, “ who writes such a filthy book about men that, 
for all its cleverness, proves she must have had some- 
thing to do with the subject she handles so well. Some 
years ago — a good many, too many for a chit like you to 
remember — there appeared in the Saturday Review an 
article called ‘The Girl of the Period.’ It excited an 
immense deal of discussion. Infuriated mothers wrote 
to the papers, declaring that the satire was a base libel — 
that their daughters were not at all like the ‘ Girl of the 
Period,’ and virtuous and indignant Englishwomen — the 
sort that refuse to believe in evil when it is right under 
their nose — declared that English girls were not altered in 
the slightest degree, and that they were as filial and 
innocent and simple and undesigning as ever. The 
writer of the article, who was afterward discovered to be 
one of our most distinguished authoresses, was abused 
all round, but she bore it with dignified indifference. 
What must those indignant asserters say now, if they 


M/^S. BERNARD LEARNS HOW TO DECEIVE. 75 

are yet above ground ? Nothing that Mrs. Lynn Linton 
wrote was half so bad as the women are in the present 
day. She asserted that they were more fast and inde- 
pendent and less submissive to discipline than their 
mothers and grandmothers had been. What would she 
have written could she have foreseen their clubs and 
their societies, their cycling, cricketing, and golfing pro- 
clivities, their proposed volunteer corps, their diplomas 
of medicine, their wranglerships and honors ? It may all 
prove that women are capable of more than we gave them 
credit for, but it also proves that she was right when she 
wrote ‘The Girl of the Period,’ and that women are no 
longer what they were.” 

“Well, never mind that,” said Mrs. Bernard, who 
appeared to be a little tired of this disquisition on her 
sex. “Are you coming to tea with me at the club this 
afternoon ? That is the question.” 

“ Of course, if you will ask me. But will it not be 
noticeable if I accompany you there so often ? ” 

“Oh, dear, no! We all take our ‘mashes’ there, 
whenever we like, and no one interferes with us, if we 
keep to the canonical hours. I have never even told 
your name to anyone there. Lady Alexander asked me 
one day who my friend was, and I told her that was my 
business and her impudence. None of us tell, if we have 
‘not a mind to do so. It is thought nothing of. The club 
was founded expressly to uphold the liberty of women.” 

“And it seems to act up to its principles, by Jove ! ” 
said Captain Austin. 

“We have started a debating society, and meetings 
are to be held for the purpose once a fortnight,” con- 
tinued Mrs. Bernard. “The first subject is, ‘What is 
the least motive that should justify a woman leaving her 
husband ? ’ Miss Noble is for the question and Lady 
Matthew Winterton for the discussion. I expect it will 
be a very animated one. Lady Matthew is all for tem- 
porizing measures. She has a very low opinion of your 
sex, but believes that women were intended to be your 
regenerators ; so should stick to you as long as ever they 
can. And of course Miss Noble is all the other way 
and says that women are far too good for men,” 


76 


AT HEART A RAItE. 


“Poor men!” remarked the captain, with pretended 
compassion. “ Don’t you think I am a very brave speci- 
men of the sex to venture among such a set of clever 
and enlightened ladies ? ” 

“ Oh, not with me,” replied Cissy with perfect ingenu- 
ousness. “They wouldn’t dare say anything to you, 
when you go there with a member of the club.” 

“You reassure me,” he exclaimed, laughing, “so let us 
proceed there at once. We can talk better in the smok- 
ing room, or the restaurant, than here.” 

They had sauntered near the gates by this time, and 
Captain Austin hailed a hansom and put Cissy into it. 

“Supposing we should meet the colonel !” she said 
jestingly, as he took his place beside her, and the words 
were hardly out of her mouth before Colonel Bernard 
appeared in sight, walking jauntily between two ladies, on 
whom he was beaming with his best society smile. 

“By Jove! here he comes!” cried Captain Austin, 
“ Stoop! Mrs. Bernard, as low as you can! ” and seizing 
her parasol, he unfurled it and held it before her face. 
Colonel Bernard looked up accidentally, caught sight of 
Captain Austin in the flying hansom, nodded his head to 
him, and resumed his conversation with his companions. 

“By George, that was a close shave ! ” exclaimed the 
captain, as the trio passed out of sight and he ventured 
to put down Cissy’s parasol. “ I thought we were in for 
it, that time. He actually looked into the cab. Phew ! 
It has made me quite warm.” 

“He would have killed me, if he had seen me,” said 
Cissy, trembling. 

“It is horribly risky,” rejoined her companion. 
“Sometimes, I think, for all your pretended timidity, 
Mrs. Bernard, that you must be a very brave young 
woman. I am sure you are a very rash one.” 

“ Are you ? But what would you have me do ? If my 
husband will not be reasonable, I must find some way by 
which to amuse myself. Would you have me spend my 
life in these stuffy little rooms, with no company but that 
of my servants, or an occasional old woman to look in 
and give me good advice ? And the only alternative to 
be stormed at by the colonel, whenever he has had too 


M/?S. BERNARD LEARNS HOW TO DECEIVE. 77 

much to drink. It is not often he treats me to the 
beautiful smile he was bestowing on those two old frumps 
just now. He reserves that for the dear friends to whom 
he can pour out the story of the sad mistake he has made 
in marrying me.” 

Do you know who they were ? ” 

“I dared not look, but I can guess — Mrs. and Miss 
Nettlefold. Mrs. Nettlefold had the impertinence to 
attempt to give me some advice one day, but she soon 
left off. I never answered her a word, but sat in silence 
with folded hands. So she told the colonel I was 
obstinate and she could do nothing with me.” 

“ And were you obstinate ? ” 

‘‘No, only horribly frightened. I always am fright- 
ened, directly anyone finds fault with me. I am only 
brave behind their backs.” 

“When you are taking me to tea at the club, for 
example.” 

“Just so. I should expect you to protect me if any- 
thing happened. But I am a fearful coward when by 
myself. I shake so, I cannot speak.” 

“Poor little woman! I wish I could* be by to protect 
you always,” said the captain sympathetically. 

“I wish you could. That would be nice,” replied 
Cissy. “ I don’t think, somehow, that I should ever be 
afraid of you.” 

Just then the cab stopped at the door of the Pushahead 
Club, which was held in a large old-fashioned house in 
York Place. Mrs. Bernard jumped out and ran within 
its sheltering portals before anyone passing could recog- 
nize her, and as soon as Captain Austin had defrayed the 
cab fare he followed his fair conductor into the general 
reception room of the club, where members were allowed 
to invite their gentlemen friends to take tea with them, 
between the hours of five and seven. 

A great many women, both young and old, accompa- 
nied or alone, were occupying the reception room, 
lounging about the sofas, talking together, or sipping 
their afternoon tea. Some of them nodded carelessly 
as Mrs. Bernard passed them, while others simply stared 
at her and her companion. Having called for tea. 


78 


AT HEART A RAKE. 


Cissy and Captain Austin ensconced themselves on a 
cozy couch at the further end of the apartment, where 
they kept up a running fire of small-talk. 

‘‘ Do you see that tall dark woman who has just come 
in ?” whispered Cissy. “ That is Miss Mackintyre. They 
say the most awful things about her, that she practices 
black magic, and sits in the dark, with all sorts of creepy 
things about her. There is Dr. Adelaide Kelly. Some 
people think she is very clever, but I shouldn’t like her 
to attend me. My old doctor at Bayswater told me the 
other day that he considered that women doctors were 
very cruel to their own sex, and put them to unnecessary 
pain — and I don’t like pain,” concluded Cissy. 

“ The men visitors look a queer lot to me,” remarked 
Austin, “ more like charlatans of some sort than gentle- 
men. What beastly long hair that fellow on the right 
hand has! and what is he doing with a velvet lounging 
coat on in the afternoon and in the presence of ladies ? ” 

“Oh, that is Mr. Fortinlow, a theosophist,” replied 
Cissy. “We have all sorts here, at times, you know. He 
believes in Mahatmas and precipitation, and so do the 
ladies sitting beside him. We have spiritualists among 
us, too — people who say that ghosts can appear to you — 
isn’t it a horrible idea ? One of them offered to take 
me to a stance, but I said I should die if she did. And 
we have lots who don’t believe in anything at all, but 
say when we’re dead we’re done for, and never know 
anything again.” 

“That’s the most comfortable creed, after all,” 
replied Captain Austin, with the general carelessness of 
to-day. “I’m sure this life is puzzle enough, without 
our wanting to begin it all over again in another. Stick 
to that, Mrs. Bernard, and dismiss all the foolish dogmas 
of a hereafter. We have only one life to live and we’re 
bound to make the best of it, for our own sake and the 
sake of others.” 

When he had allowed Mrs. Bernard to digest this great 
truth for a few moments, he ventured to say: 

“This is very nice, of course, as far as it goes, but it 
is not the privacy I should like to have with you, my 
little friend. Why can’t I take you from here to some 


MRS. BERNARD LEARNS NO IV TO DECEIVE. 79 

quiet cafi^ where we could have a nice little dinner 
together, and go to the theater afterward.” 

Cissy almost shrieked : 

“Oh, dear! oh, dear! What are you thinking of? 
What would the colonel say?” 

Austin was nearly replying, “D the colonel!” 

but he restrained himself, and asked in his turn: 

“Is it not possible to account for your absence in 
some other way ? ” 

“No, indeed! I have never been out in the evening 
without him since we were married.” 

“ Nor he without you ? ” 

“Oh, yes! occasionally — to dinners and smoking con- 
certs with his old cronies.” 

“Well, we must see if we cannot manage it next time 
he goes out himself. I dare say he is not home till late, 
and would give us time to have a nice little outing 
together.” 

“I shouldn’t dare,” whispered Cissy. 

“Think over it, and it will come quite easy to you. 
You women are never at a loss for a good excuse. But 
do you know that it is half-past six ? If you are not to 
get a scolding to-night, I am afraid I must take you 
home at once.” 

“ Oh, pray do ! ” cried Mrs. Bernard, in a great flurry, 
as she put on her gloves again. “I shall never hear the 
last of it if I am not in before the colonel. And tell 
the cab to put me down at the other end of Moseley Gar- 
dens, won’t you, in case I should meet him. And if 
by any accident he should have reached home earlier 
than usual, I shall say I met Lady Phyllis Macnaughten 
in the Park, and she wouldn’t let me leave her before.” 

And so, primed with deceit induced by the unjust 
treatment she received at her husband’s hands, the little 
woman was taken home. 


CHAPTER VIL 


A SOCIETY “at home.” 

It was a Thursday afternoon, and Lady Phyllis Mac- 
naughten was “At home.” Flowering plants and exotics 
lined each side of the staircase which led to the draw- 
ing room; and servants in livery were waiting in the 
hall to conduct the guests to the apartment, as car- 
riage after carriage deposited its freight at the door. 
In the reception rooms the visitors were so closely 
packed that it was difficult to pass the threshold; 
footmen were trying to make their way among the 
crowd with trays of tea, coffee, and ices; at the grand 
piano, an Italian singer with melting black eyes, a very 
prominent shirt front, and fat white hands, was sigh- 
ing forth some sentimental love song, with the expression 
of a dying duck in a thunderstorm. 

Ladies were seated on every available chair and sofa, 
while the hapless men had to stand behind them, or 
to squeeze themselves flat against the wall, to the immi- 
nent danger of the valuable paintings with which it 
was lined. The sultry June weather made everyone 
feel languid and disinclined for exertion, and yet, here 
they were, undergoing one of the most tiring penances 
they could be called upon to perform. And in the name 
of pleasure ! 

Lady Phyllis was standing in the center of the room, 
in order to be ready to receive her guests, as, one by 
one, they forced their way toward her. She was look- 
ing infinitely bored and weary, but kept a fixed smile on 
her face the while. She was robed in some white cling- 
ing material, which showed off her graceful figure to 
perfection; her light chestnut hair was twisted in a 
classical knot at the back of her head, while it strayed in 
soft little curling tendrils over her fair forehead, and she 


8o 


A SOCIETY HOME.' 


8i 


wore no ornaments except a heavy gold zone about her 
waist, and a coil of the same metal twisted in her hair. 
Visitor after visitor gathered round her, to congratulate 
her on her appearance, or that of her rooms, and she 
smiled the same on each fresh comer, and seemed 
equally indifferent to all. The Italian singer, Signor 
Cetelli, who was one of those second-rate professionals 
who are glad to advertise themselves by singing at the 
house of any well-known woman of society, had now 
finished his warbling, and a lady who was dying to show 
off was worrying Lady Phyllis to let her recite for the 
benefit of the company — when a diversion was caused (at 
least to the mistress of the house) by the entrance of 
Lady Fearon. 

As soon as Phyllis saw her, she started forward and 
grasped her cordially by the hand. She had held no 
further discussion with her husband respecting this lady, 
but this was the first time since that event that she had 
had an opportunity of carrying out her decision with 
regard to her. Macnaughten was not present — like most 
husbands, he always avoided the house on the afternoons 
when his wife held her “At Homes,” but absent or pres- 
ent made no difference to Phyllis — she was acting from 
inclination, as well as principle, and did not care whether 
he heard of it or not. Lady P^aron took her proffered 
hand, with a smile of pleasure. She was a tall, slender 
woman, with a pleasing face and very gentle -manners. 
By the hand she held a little lad of about three years old, 
for bringing whom with her she immediately apologized. 

“ My little Dicky was so anxious to make the acquaint- 
ance of your Roy, Lady Phyllis, and teased me so to 
bring him, that foolishly, perhaps, I gave in to his 
wishes, but I sincerely hope he will not prove any incon- 
venience. I told him that little boys were not allowed, 
as a rule, to attend ladies’ ‘ At Homes.’ ” 

“Indeed, Dicky is very welcome,” exclaimed Lady 
Phyllis, as she stooped down to kiss Lady Fearon’s son 
and heir. “I will send for Roy at once to play with him. 
I should have known him anywhere. Lady Fearon. He 
is the very image of his father.” 

“ He is considered very like,” replied Lady Fearon, 


82 


AT HEART A RAKE. 


with a tender smile. Old Lady Codrington, who had 
been notorious in her youth for her amourettes^ and Miss 
Radstock who should, if everyone had their rights, 
have put on a wedding ring some half dozen times, looked 
at each other furtively, sniffed, and bent their heads 
together. 

“Do you think she can possibly know?” said Miss 
Radstock to Lady Codrington. 

^^Know? Doesn’t everybody in town know? But I 
think it is a positive insult to ask such people to meet 
women of reputation and family.” 

“So do I. And the way she refers to Sir Richard is 
quite indelicate, to my mind. The mention of a person 
like that should be dropped.” 

“But what can you expect, when his wife — wife! 
faugh ! people who can behave in such a manner shouldn’t 
be allowed to become wives ! I really don’t know what 
society is coming to. Her Majesty, even, who used to be 
so particular, seems to be getting quite lax of late. Did 
you read what a magnificent brooch of rubies and 
diamonds she presented to Mme. Ratafia the other day ? 
A few years ago she would not have let her sing at the 
palace. Dear, dear ! It is very sad. Things are not 
what they were when I was a girl. We were much more 
particular then.” 

“Were you really V exclaimed Miss Radstock, with 
simulated ingenuousness. “ I am sure you had need to 
be. Were you at the Ambassador’s last night ?” 

“ No, I was not feeling well enough to go.” 

“You missed something, I can tell you ! The way in 
which young Mrs. Piercy was going on with Sir Charles 
Brabant was the talk of the evening. Mr. Piercy was 
not there, of course. I am sure they were quite half an 
hour alone in the conservatory, and when they came out 
they stood close to me, and I distinctly saw two or three 
of her hairs on his coat-sleeve. No mistaking them, you 
know — they’re as carroty as can be, though some infatu- 
ated creatures insist they’re true Titianesque. Absurd 
nonsense ! People will say anything when a woman courts 
their admiration. I am thankful to say no one could ever 
say such a thing of me.” 


A SOCIETY AT HOME: 


83 


“Well ! at all events, no one has responded,” chuckled 
old Lady Codrington, who loved a joke at the expense of 
anyone but herself. 

Meanwhile, Lady Phyllis Macnaughten and Lady 
Fearon were comparing their little sons, and talking 
about their relative ages and capacities. While they 
were thus engaged, a little figure crept into the room, 
unknown to everyone there, and rather nervous at find- 
ing herself in so fashionable an assembly of ladies, who 
mostly put up their eyeglasses in the true fashionable 
style to examine her more closely, and did not stir one 
inch to admit of her gaining the side of her hostess. 
The footman had bawled “ Mrs. Bernard,” as she came 
up the staircase, but the young lady who had been so 
anxious to recite was spouting “The Charge of the 
Light Brigade ” at the moment, and there was a general 
hum of conversation all over the rooms, so that the 
announcement did not reach Lady Phyllis’ ears. After 
a while, however, she became conscious of a strange 
presence near her and a timid cough trying to attract 
her attention, and turning round caught sight of her old 
school friend. Cissy was prettily attired, but she was 
not dressed for a fashionable “At Home” in the height 
of the season. Her hat trimmed with roses, and short 
black lace cape, looked commonplace among the various 
French cofifections by which she was surrounded. The 
ladies who composed the assembly thought, as a rule, of 
nothing but their dress. From the first thing in the 
morning to the last thing at night, it was their chief con- 
cern. •What they should wear at Lady Bolingbrook’s 
dance, or at the boat-race, or the opera, was of greater 
moment to them than the care of husband and family. 
They half lived at their dressmaker’s, who pandered to 
their secret vices and supplied them with anything they 
might find a difficulty in procuring at home, and put it 
down in the bill under the heading of extras. There was 
scarcely a woman present with a soul above shades and 
materials and style. Cissy was not a very estimable 
young person, but she was innocence personified to some 
of the great ladies who were crowding Phyllis’ drawing 
rooms. When Vice or Folly is descried openly, the mob 


84 


AT HEART A RAKE. 


is ready to hoot at it and pelt it with mud — but it cringes 
and bows before the Vice in high places, because they 
who practice it have more influence and money to hide 
or cover it up. 

But as soon as Lady Phyllis became aware of the pres- 
ence of Mrs. Bernard, she soon made her guests under- 
stand the estimation in which she held her, though she 
did wear a hat with pink roses, and a little black cape. 

My dear Cissy ! ” she cried, “ how delighted I am to 
see you. You are a good girl to come so soon. But 
where is Colonel Bernard ? Is he not with you ? I 
thought he promised to come. I suppose he is like most 
gentlemen and fights shy of our ‘ At Homes.’ ” 

“Dear Phyllis!” answered Cissy warmly, “he could 
not come to-day. He said he had some important busi- 
nees to attend to, and I was to convey his apologies to 
you. I’m afraid he is like the rest, and rather afraid of 
finding himself in a minority.” 

“ Ah, well, dear ! you have come, and that is the principal 
thing. Have you had any tea or coffee ? Or will you 
prefer an ice? James, bring an ice here for Mrs. Ber- 
nard. Lady Fearon, will you allow me to introduce to 
you a very old friend of mine. We were at school 
together, years ago, and were delighted to meet again 
the other day.” 

“And we had not seen each other since we were 
married — was it not funny ? ” said Cissy, in her childish 
way. 

Lady Fearon shook hands with her new acquaintance 
and remarked: • 

“And you have both of you been married for such a 
very long time that you must, indeed, have had much to 
tell each other 1 ” 

“Oh, oceans ! ” replied Mrs. Bernard, not recognizing 
the playfulness of the remark, “ or at least we shall have, 
but we have had no time for talking to each other yet — 
have we, Phyllis ? ” 

“ No, Cissy ! and this is not the place for our confi- 
dences either ” — and then she bent her head toward the 
young girl and said in a low tone, “ Don’t slip away 
without my speaking to you ! Wait until all these 


A SOCIETY AT home:* 85 

people have gone, an(^ you and I will have a little causerie 
together.” 

At this hint Cissy took a seat as close to Phyllis as she 
could command, and waited v/ith patience for the promised 
interview. The company began now gradually to dis- 
perse. Some of the ladies were going to look in at other 
“ At Homes ” — to drink one or two more cups of luke- 
warm tea — to eat one or two more macaroons or marrons 
glacis — to talk a little more scandal — and then to go home 
and declare they had no appetite, that they were sure 
that London disagreed with them, and that they must call 
in the fashionable physician of the day, and see if he did 
not consider that a change was absolutely necessary for 
them. 

Others went for a turn in the Row, where their carriages 
got into line with the carriages of other fools like them- 
selves, who found pleasure in crawling at a snail’s pace 
through the Park, while they criticised the dresses of 
their acquaintance, and occasionally acknowledged a bow 
from some young ape leaning over the railings, who 
imagined the earth not good enough for him to walk 
upon, and the whole world lost in admiration of his' 
mustaches — his drawl — his button-hole — and his new 
gloves. Vice, vanity, and folly ! These a.re what make 
up the Great London Fair. Happy the men or women, 
who, having shaken themselves free of it all, resolve to 
live their own lives, obey their own laws, and never 
think once again of what the lustful, lying, slanderous 
world may say or think of them. 

Lady Fearon was one of the last to leave Lady Phyllis’ 
house that afternoon. The world, which was' infinitely 
worse than herself, had lost its charm for her, and she 
intended to drive straight home with her little boy. But 
she felt interested, she hardly knew why, in Cissy’s 
innocent-looking face — perhaps, because beneath its 
apparent childishness, she discerned a flippancy which, 
when united with ignorance, becomes dangerous. As 
soon as the room had become a little clear. Cissy had a 
better opportunity of chatting with Lady Phyllis, and in 
the course of conversation, the name of Mrs. Warrington 
came on the tapis. Lady Fearon looked interested at once. 


86 


AT HEART A RAKE. 


*‘You know Mrs. Warrington?” she inquired. 

Pretty well; but she is not much my style, you know. 
She is quite an old woman, but she lives near us and often 
looks in to have a talk with me.” 

^^Old!" mused Lady Fearon. “Yes, I suppose she 
would seem old to you, who are so young. But she is 
old in good works as well. 1 do not know a better, more 
generous, charitable woman than Mrs. Warrington. Do 
you know her. Lady Phyllis ? ” 

“No. What does she do ? ” 

“The question should rather be, what does she 7iot do ? 
Everything that is possible to succor and benefit her 
fellow creatures. She has a hospital for little children 
of the poor, which she has founded and supported entirely 
at her own expense. But she does not confine herself to 
one sort of work. She is at the service of all who really 
want her. She is an angel upon earth.” 

“ She wears such a funny old cloak and a poke bonnet.” 
remarked Mrs. Bernard, with a giggle. 

“Ah, Mrs. Bernard! but they cover one of the 
kindest hearts in London. If we were all like Mrs. 
Warrington it would be the better for ourselves and the 
world.” 

“ I should like to know her,” remarked Lady Phyllis. 

“Would you?” rejoined Lady Fearon eagerly. 
“ Then I should be so pleased to bring you together 1 
Will you and Mr. Macnaughten come some evening to us 
and meet her at dinner? Have you a vacant evening? 
Do think ! ” 

Lady Phyllis did think, and remembered the difference 
she and Macnaughten had had respecting the woman 
before her, and how unlikely he was to allow her to dine 
at her house again. So she answered, with a heightened 
color: 

“I am afraid we are ‘full up,’ Lady Fearon. Mr. 
Macnaughten is disposed to grumble at my engagement 
list already. I fear it would not be easy to find a spare 
evening this season. But perhaps I may happen to meet 
Mrs. Warrington in your company before it is over. If 
so, I shall be very pleased to have an introduction.” 

“Let us hope so. I should like you to know her. 


A SOCIETY AT HOMEr 87 

She is a woman whose acquaintance cannot fail to do 
good to anyone.” 

At this moment a stout, fussy-looking woman advanced 
to Lady Phyllis, exclaiming : 

“ Oh, my dear Lady Phyllis ! I was unfortunate enough 
to enter your charming house rather late, and have been 
quite unable to approach you until now. What an enjoy- 
able party ! What an exquisite house ! You are indeed 
to be envied. I think you have the loveliest home in 
London.” 

Phyllis smiled languidly. 

“That is indeed a large order, Mrs. Donaldson, as Mr. 
Macnaughten would say. But are you going ?” 

“ I am afraid we must — it is six o’clock, you know. 
But I want first to introduce my friend. Miss Vipan, to 
you. She has been longing to make your acquaintance, 
so, knowing your good nature, I ventured to bring her 
with me this afternoon. Miss Vipan — Lady Phyllis 
Macnaughten.” 

There was something about the newcomer that 
repulsed Phyllis at first sight, though she could not have 
told you why. She gazed coldly as her name was men- 
tioned, and then, drawing back a few paces, bowed, with- 
out any apparent notice of the hand which Miss Vipan 
held out. But her coldness had no effect upon the per- 
son in question, who, seizing Lady Phyllis’ hand, whether 
she would or no, shook it warmly as she fixed her with 
her hard eyes, and exclaimed: 

“I like you — mark my words, we shall be friends — 
great friends — and I am true as steel to those I love. I 
am very glad to have met you — but I knew I should, 
months ago. And we shall see a great deal of each other. 
Nothing in the future is hid from me.” 

Lady Phyllis drew back from this offensive address 
with evident distaste, and regarded Miss Vipan with 
indignant eyes that looked as though they would have 
liked to slay her. She was a most remarkable looking 
woman — you would not meet such another in a three 
days’ march. To begin with, she was very small, and 
had much the appearance of a witch of • the wrong sort. 
Her features looked as if they had been carved out of 


88 


AT HEART A RAKE. 


wood; her keen eyes, surmounted by bushy gray brows, 
were hard as stones; her mouth was one straight line, 
without curve or softness about it, her gleaming white 
teeth were false — she was false all over ! She was attired 
in a dowdy fashion, without looking either venerable or 
poor. Her close bonnet and veil were like those of a 
hospital nurse, her black shawl hung over narrow, sloping 
shoulders, the cunning look in her eyes was enhanced by 
a pair of spectacles. Yet with all her apparent humility, 
and lack of this world’s goods. Miss Vipan possessed an 
assurance worthy of the old gentleman himself. She 
never was abashed; no amount of plain speaking offended 
her; she had been turned out of half the houses in town, 
yet she managed to worm her way back again, and dare, 
as it were, her host to banish her for the second time. 
How she lived no one knew, but she managed to keep 
her wretched life within her body by dining at other 
people’s expense — calling at meal time and keeping her 
seat, spite of hints to the contrary, until she was asked to 
share the meal; thrusting herself upon the notice of her 
rich or notable acquaintances in public, till, in order to get 
rid of her, they were forced to accord her the notice she 
worked to obtain. She was known and disliked all over 
town, but this was the first time she had obtruded herself 
upon the notice of Lady Phyllis Macnaughten, and from 
Phyllis’ looks, it was likely to be the last. She drew 
herself up to her full height as Miss Vipan thus familiarly 
addressed her, and replied, with dignity: 

“Indeed! You have the advantage of me. Miss 
Vipan. The future is better known to you than to my- 
self,” And with that, she turned her attention again to 
Lady Fearon. 

“Ah, Lady Fearon ! ” now exclaimed Miss Vipan. “ I 
was not aware that you knew our friend here. How is 
Sir Richard ? And the children ? Well, eh ? I see you 
have one of them here. Come to me, Dicky, and shake 
hands,” 

But Dicky refused to do as he was bid, hiding behind 
his mother’s skirt, and exclaimed, “ Go away ! I don’t 
like you 1 You’re ugly 1 ” to Lady Fearon’s dismay. 

“You spoil him,” said Miss Vipan familiarly. “He 


A SOCIETY ''AT HOME.” 


89 

would never behave like that if you brought him up 
properly. I want to look in upon you some evening. 
When will you be at home ? ” 

“ I really cannot say, for certain,” replied Lady Fearon, 
in her gentle voice. “You see Sir Richard is very hard 
worked during the day, and when we have an evening at 
home, which is seldom, he likes to spend it alone with 
me.” 

“ Oh, Darby and Joan, I suppose ! Setting a good 
example to all the married couples in London,” said Miss 
Vipan, in a tone of voice that brought the blood to Lady 
Fearon’s delicate cheek. “Well, I must take my chance 
of finding you, and if Sir Richard wants his nap, that 
needn’t interfere with you and me. Are you going, Mrs. 
Donaldson ? ” 

“Yes, I am afraid we must be moving. Miss Vipan, 
for we dine at seven. Good-by, Lady Phyllis. We have 
had a most charming afternoon.” 

“Good-by,” echoed Miss Vipan, thrusting out a 
hand with a silk glove on it, for the second time. “I see 
you don’t half believe what I said to you just now, but 
it will come true — you may be sure of that. I’ll try to 
look in again next Thursday. Good-by ! ” 

“What an awful woman !” exclaimed Phyllis, as the 
two ladies disappeared. “Who is she ? Where does she 
come from ? How dare she speak to me as if she had 
known me a hundred years ? And what does Mrs. Don- 
aldson mean by bringing her here ? I don’t think I was 
ever so disgusted in my life before ! ” 

“My dear Lady Phyllis,” replied Lady Fearon, who 
was half disposed to laugh at the occurrence ; “she is 
Miss Vipan — everybody in London knows her as one of 
the most pertinacious, impertinent, and dangerous women 
in town. She is nobody — she has neither family, friends, 
money, nor influence — and yet you meet her every- 
where. I have heard people suggest that she is a private 
detective, but that is, of course, all nonsense, although 
she constitutes herself one in an amateur way. But I 
will tell you the secret. By hook or by crook, there is no 
doubt she has wormed her way into the confidence of 
many people ; chiefly, I think, by doing dirty .work for 


90 


AT HEART A RAKE. 


them that no one else would perform — getting hold of 
their family secrets also, and thus obtaining a hold over 
them, which she uses for her own ends — perhaps to get 
money out of them ; certainly, to keep her footing in their 
houses. This power she uses with people like Mrs. Don- 
aldson, who are nouveaux riches., and require introductions 
into society — which again she utilizes, as you have seen 
to-day, by getting them to take her to such houses as 
they have gained admittance to. But I am very sorry 
she has come here — very sorry, indeed, for she is a most 
dangerous woman.’* 

‘‘She will not have the option of proving dangerous to 
me,'' said Lady Phyllis proudly, “ for she has seen the 
first and the last of me. She never enters these doors 
again. I think she is the most offensive creature I ever 
met.” 

“ I hope you may be able to keep to your resolution. 
Lady Phyllis,” replied Lady Fearon, rising, “but if you 
do, you will be cleverer than my other friends. You 
don’t know how difficult it is to keep a person out of the 
house who has once obtained admittance there.” 

“I will try, anyway,” said Phyllis, laughing as she bid 
her friend good-by. The rooms were clear by this time, 
and, as Lady Fearon disappeared, Phyllis turned to Mrs. 
Bernard and said ; 

“ Now, Cissy, I am going to keep you with me for the 
evening. Mr. Macnaughten is out somewhere on his 
own business and will not be home till late ; so you and I 
will have a cozy dinner and chat together.” 

Cissy looked delighted, but anxious. 

“Oh, Phyllis ! if I only dared! ” 

On\y dared ! Do you mean to say you can’t do as 
you like in such a little thing as that ? Cannot your hus- 
band eat his dinner by himself for once in a way ? Are 
you afraid of him. Cissy ? ” 

“ I think I am, Phyllis — just a little bit. You know I 
was always a coward at school.” 

“I remember you were, but that was different. Now 
you are a married woman, and have surely the right to 
a little liberty. Look here, dear ! If I send a wire to 
the colonel to say I want your company, and have insisted 


A SOCIETY AT HOMET 91 

on keeping you, and will send you home safely in the car- 
riage by and by, won’t that do ? ” 

“ Oh, I should think so, Phyllis ! and I should love to 
stay with you so, and if he does scold me for it afterward, 

I shan’t mind.” 

Phyllis regarded the timid girl for a minute compas- 
sionately, and then rang the bell. When the man 
answered it, she said : 

“James, Mrs. Bernard will dine with me this evening. 
And bring me a telegram paper and pencil.” 

In a few minutes, the servant reappeared with the 
articles in question and Lady Phyllis wrote upon the 
telegram form, “I have insisted upon keeping Cissy for 
the evening. Will send her home in carriage,” and, ad- 
dressing it to Colonel Bernard, desired the servant to 
have it sent at once. 

Then she turned to Cissy and said : 

“Now you will come up to my bedroom, won’t you, 
dear, and remove your walking things ? ” 

Mrs. Bernard, who was still trembling at the idea of 
what her effrontery might bring down upon her head on 
her return home, followed her friend and was soon lost ' 
in admiration of the bedroom which Lady Helen had 
described to her aunt as fit for a princess. The costly 
lace — the expensive ornaments — the beautiful china and 
glass — the dressing table laden with silver, which Lady 
Phyllis regarded with the nonchalance of habit, opened 
out something akin to fairyland to Cissy, whose marital 
chamber was as bare of luxury as it well could be. But 
she was prevented giving vent to her admiration and sur- 
prise by the presence of Louise, who was waiting to help 
her mistress change her dress. • 

“Just give me a tea gown, Louise,” said Phyllis ; “I 
want to be comfortable to-night. Mrs. Bernard and I 
are going to have a tete-h-tHe dinner together.” 

“Ah, indeed! miladi,” replied Louise. “And Mme. 
Bernard too, will she that I arrange her hair or dress?” 

“Oh, no, no ! We want none of your fussing, Louise ! 
We shall dine just as we are, sans g^ne.” 

“Just as miladi please,” returned the well-trained 
Louise. 


92 


AT' HEART A RAJCE. 


As soon as their simple toilet was completed, Phyllis 
and Cissy descended to the dining room to partake of a 
repast which appeared sumptuous in the younger woman’s 
eyes, and then they laid themselves out for a cup of tea 
and a long chat in the deserted drawing room above. 

“ This may be said to be the first moment we have had 
together,” observed Phyllis, as she stretched herself on 
a couch and Mrs. Bernard took a low seat beside her. 
“There is no comfort in a house like this — always sur- 
rounded by servants, all eyes and ears — it is impossible 
to say or do what one likes. I do so hate all this pomp 
and fuss. People who live in a house with four rooms 
and do their own cooking must be much more comfort- 
able.” 

“Oh, Phyllis! I don’t think you would like it,” ex- 
claimed Cissy, with open eyes. “Even in a house like 
ours, with only two servants, you can’t imagine the 
trouble and annoyance I am put to sometimes. Either 
the cook has spoiled the dinner, or the housemaid has 
not dusted the drawing room properly, and the house is 
upset for the day in consequence. I often do such things 
myself, just for peace’s sake — but nothing is ever right in 
my house — nothing.” 

Lady Phyllis regarded her friend thoughtfully for 
a while. 

“My poor little Cissy,” she said presently, “I’m 
afraid you are not as happy as you should be.” 

The kind, sympathizing tone brought the tears into 
Cissy’s eyes. 

“ Oh ! I suppose I oughtn’t to say anything about it — 
and I wouldn’t except to you, Phyllis, but you were 
always my friend when we were at Brighton together. I 
can remember how you stood up for me against that 
great bully, Emma Shortlands, and told Mrs. Brentlow 
that she was a liar, before the whole school. And I am 
sure you won’t repeat what I tell you now, dear, but I 
am not happy — how can I be ? The colonel is so awfully 
strict with me. He never takes me anywhere himself, 
at least, very seldom — and he won’t let me go out alone ; 
so you may imagine what a lively life I spend.” 

“But that is tyranny,” exclaimed Phyllis boldly, “and 


A SOCIETY AT HOME." 


93 


you are not bound to obey him. If he does not like your 
walking alone, he should take you out. What does he do 
all the day himself ? ” 

“ He doesn’t come downstairs till nearly lunch time, 
and after that he goes to his club till dinner. And in the 
evenings he generally goes to sleep. Oh, it is so dull ! ” 

“ And what do you do. Cissy, while he is at his club ? 
You do not stay in all day, surely ? ” 

“ Phyllis, I hardly dare tell you — but you will promise 
me, on your sacred word of honor, not to repeat it. 
Honor bright ? ” 

“ Honor bright, my dear child ! Did I ever betray one 
of your confidences yet ? Why should you doubt me 
now ? ” 

“I don’t, but this is an awful secret. If my husband 
knew it, I believe he would kill me. And all my pleasure 
would be gone too. So you will promise, won’t you?” 

“ Sacredly !” repeated Phyllis. “ Why, darling, do you 
think I would be such a brute as to get you into a scrape. 
I would much rather get into one myself. Cissy.” 

‘‘ Ah ! but you have no fear of that. Mr. Macnaughten 
is not like Colonel Bernard. He can’t be. Well, I will 
trust you, dear, for I know you of old. You asked me 
just now what I did while my husband goes to his club. 
Why, I go to mine.” 

Lady Phyllis turned round on her couch and gazed at 
her friend in amazement. She had never heard of such a 
thing before. 

“Cissy, what are you talking of? Are you joking? 
What do you mean? How can you go to, a club, you 
silly little thing ? ” 

“ I mean what I say, Phyllis, but don’t talk so loud, 
lest Mr. Macnaughten should come in unexpectedly. I 
go to my club — the Pushahead — only I have never dared 
to tell Colonel Bernard about it. Don’t you know that 
ladies have clubs now ? ” 

“ I never heard of such a thing. What sort of clubs ?” 

“Why! just the same as gentlemen’s clubs — with 
reading rooms and all that. There are several in 
London now. They were instituted to give women more 
liberty, and to further all movements for their good. 


94 


AT HEART A RAKE. 


The members mostly think that women are very hardly 
used by men — husbands chiefly — and they have banded 
together to protect them from tyranny. There are all 
sorts of ladies there — literary, and social, and artistic — 
and they can meet at any time, and take their friends 
also* The only happy moments I have are spent at the 
Pushahead.” 

Lady Phyllis’ eyes were sparkling with excitement. 

“ It must be a glorious institution, ” she said. ‘‘ I am so 
glad you have told me of it. I didn’t know there was 
such a place. Oh ! how many women I know that such a 
club might benefit, like poor Mrs. Lascelles, whose hus- 
band treats her like a brute when he is tipsy — and Mrs. 
Tritton, who is so poor she can never afford to go to 
theaters or any places of pleasure. What a boon a club 
would be to them ! And they must be high-minded 
women too, who uphold it. Have you a president and 
committee ? ” 

‘‘Oh, dear, yes! everything in regular order. Lady 
Barton is our president, and we have a committee of 
twenty ladies. Our vice president was Miss Moberley, 
the African traveler, but she is just dead, so the post is 
vacant.” 

Lady Phyllis sprang from her couch and commenced to 
pace up and down the room. 

“What a grand idea ! ” she exclaimed ; “ what a grand, 
noble ideal ! Women banded together to defend the 
interests of their own sex; to uphold their rights of 
liberty of thought and action — free women standing back 
to back, as it were, to allow the egress of the imprisoned 
slaves. For that is what it amounts to. Cissy. How- 
ever kind and indulgent our husbands maybe; so long 
as they treat us like children under control, as irrespon- 
sible creatures, who are not fitted to think and judge for 
ourselves— we are slaves, to all intents and purposes, and 
I have always said so. But the notion of this club — what 
did you call it? — the Pushahead — excites me beyond 
measure. It is just the sort of thing I have dreamed of — 
a place where women may meet to discuss any measures 
that may be agitating for their own benefit— where one 
may hear and have communion with the cleverest 


A SOCIETY AT HOMEr 95 

feminine brains of the day. For I suppose the members 
are all clever, Cissy.” 

“Not all, Phyllis, or they wouldn’t have admitted me,” 
replied Cissy humbly. “But there are a great number 
of clever women there, no doubt — authoresses, lecturers, 
painters, and singers. Political ladies too, and doctors, 
and Girton scholars. I am sometimes half afraid to go 
among them. Miss Emma Noble is one of the com- 
mittee, the author of ‘The Revolt of the Harem.’ You 
must have heard of that book — it is such a remarkable 
one.” 

Lady Phyllis knitted her brows. 

“Yes, I have heard of it; but it was not spoken of very 
nicely. Mr. Dalgairns, the critic, warned me not to read 
it. Have you read it. Cissy ? ” 

“Oh, dear, yes ! Everyone has. But of course the 
critics are all down upon it, because it is so clever and 
outspoken, and shows what wretches men are, and how 
unfit to have charge of innocent girls. Everybody has 
been speaking of it. They say it is the most remarkable 
book that has ever been written by a woman. That is, 
the women say so. The men abuse it because it shows 
them up. Don’t you understand, Phyllis ? ” 

“Certainly I do, and I shall send for it from Mudie’s 
at once. I have only thought of it hitherto as an un- 
seemly book to be written by a woman, but you have put 
the matter in entirely a new light. If it was written with 
a view to benefit her sex. Miss Noble is what her name 
implies — a noble woman— and it little signifies if her story 
is outspoken or not, if it accomplishes the good she 
intended. She must love and sympathize with her own 
sex, to incur the risk of obloquy for their sake. She 
must be a large-hearted, gossip-defying woman; one to 
go to in any trouble from marriage or men, with the 
assurance of finding protection and defense.” 

“Yes, I suppose so!” acquiesced Mrs. Bernard, rather 
hesitatingly, “though she doesn’t seem like that in private 
life. She is rather a hard-looking woman— with pro- 
nounced features and a bony figure — a harsh voice, too, 
which generally makes me jump. She is given to coniing 
down upon you suddenly with some awkward question, 


96 


AT HEART A RAKE. 


answering it for herself if you hesitate to do so. But 
she is thought a great power in the club — it is always 
‘Miss Noble thinks this' or ‘ Miss Noble says that’ 
However, I suppose it is all right, and she is really too 
clever to have time to think of such little amenities. But 
I must say she frightens me sometimes.” 

“My dear Cissy,” said Phyllis, with a deprecating 
smile, “you are so easily frightened. You see a bogey 
in every bush. Depend upon it that you are mistaken. 
A woman like Miss Noble, who can have had but one 
motive in writing so unpleasant a book, would never be 
anything but kind and helpful to a woman, whether her 
troubles were large or small. She would only be too 
ready and pleased to put her theories into practice; at 
least, that is my idea.” 

“Perhaps you are right ” said Cissy. “But, of course 
I know very little about Miss Noble, or indeed any of the 
committee. That is the best of the club — you are so 
perfectly free there. Each one can do exactly as she 
likes.” 

“You must take me there as soon as you can,” ex- 
claimed Lady Phyllis. “ I am dying to see it ! Will there 
be any difficulty in getting in ? ” 

“ For you — as a member, do you mean ? Oh, Phyllis ! 
they’ll jump out of their skins to get you. They dearly 
love a title.” 

Lady Phyllis’ face fell. 

“Love a title ! ” she echoed. “But I thought they were 
mostly women of genius. What difference can an empty 
title make to them or their club, when it has been insti- 
tuted to befriend their sex of whatever rank or grade ? ” 

“Oh, I don’t know !” replied her companion, “unless 
they fancy it adds importance to their list of members. 
I always think they make a great fuss over Lady Alex- 
ander Fox and Lady Matthew Winterton. But I am sure 
our president. Lady Barton, will be delighted to have 
you.” 

“Well ! when can you go with me and introduce me to 
her?” asked Phyllis eagerly. “Will to-morrow after- 
noon be convenient for you ? If so, I will call for you 
about four o’clock, and we can go together.” 


A SOCIETY ‘'AT HOMET 


97 


Mrs. Bernard looked dubious. 

“ Of course it will be convenient for me^ Phyllis — the 
question is whether the colonel will let me go. Some- 
times he takes it into his head to go out with me, or to 
keep me at home — and you must not forget that he knows 
nothing of my being a member of the Pushahead.” 

“How did you manage about the fees then, Cissy? 
Since Colonel Bernard is so particular about such matters, 
didn’t he ever ask where the money had gone to ? ” 

Cissy blushed scarlet. 

“ He have done so at once, Phyllis, only — only — 

a friend of mine was kind enough to pay the entrance 
and annual fees for me.” 

Lady Phyllis was quite unsuspicious. 

“That was kind of her,” she replied, “but I would 
have done just the same twice over. Mind, Cissy, dear ! 
if ever you are short of money, to come to me. You 
mustn’t be silly and proud about it, for it is no self-denial 
on my part. Just tell me what you want, dear, and you 
shall always have it and no questions asked.” 

“Oh, Phyllis ! what a dear, kind friend you are to me ! 
How glad I am that we have met again ! But I have been 
thinking that if you were to write a note to my husband, 
asking him to let me drive with you to-morrow afternoon, 
that he might consent without asking any questions.” 

“Of course I will,” replied Lady Phyllis, and then 
she stopped and regarded Mrs. Bernard with eyes full 
of compassion. “What a shame it is,” she continued, 
“that you should be afraid of him like this ! What is the 
reason? Tell me the truth. Cissy. Does . he strike 
you ? ” 

“Oh, no, no ! He has never done that — but he talks 
so loudly, and swears so much, it frightens me. And 
then he never makes any allowances for my inexperience. 
He expects me to know all about housekeeping, as if I 
were as old as my mother. And the money is so little — 
and — and altogether I am so lonely and so dull,” con- 
cluded Cissy, in a faltering voice. 

“Why did you ever marry him. Cissy? He must he 
double your age.” 

“More than that; he was fifty last birthday. Why 


98 


AT HEART A RAKE. 


did I marry him ? Oh, I don’t know. I was talked into 
it. You see there are so many of us at home — five, with 
myself — and mother is a widow and hardly knows how to 
make ends meet; so when Colonel Bernard proposed for 
me she said it was a chance I should never get again — 
which, perhaps, is true — and I owed it to my family to 
accept his offer. I never cared for him, Phyllis; I didn’t 
know what marriage meant ; I had never seen any man 
to compare him with, and, naturally, he was very sweet 
and kind to me then. So I thought it would be a good 
thing for me, that I should be a great lady, which I find 
I am not, and so I married him. I wish I had been dead 
first!” said Cissy vehemently, “for — for — I hate him, 
Phyllis 1 ” 

“ My poor child 1 Well, that is not the history of my 
marriage, for I was so desperately in love with my 
husband that I could neither eat nor sleep for dreaming 
of the time when I should be his altogether. And yet I 
do not think my lot is much more to be envied than your 
own. I can guess what you are going to say. Cissy — that 
I have everything that money can procure me ; but 
these things do not bring happiness, my dear, though I 
dare say it is inconvenient to be without them ; they do 
not make one more contented with life. I dare say you 
will be surprised to hear that I am a very discontented 
woman; that though there is nothing different in Ronald 
from the day we married that I can see, and I have a 
dear little boy, of whom I am very fond, yet I am not 
happy, and I cannot tell you why. I seem sick of every- 
thing ; the monotony of my existence distracts me ; I 
have friends and amusements, dress, dinners, and dances, 
but yet I am not contented, and I do not believe that the 
feeling arises, as Mr. Macnaughten says it does, because 
I have too much in this world and am like a spoiled child. 
I do not want what he calls ‘too much.’ I would part 
with it all to have something more solid and satisfying, 
to feel that I was of importance in the world — to be, in 
fact, an individual and not a toy.” 

“Can’t you^ then, do as you like?” demanded Cissy, 
with amazement. 

“I am not kept a prisoner as you are. Cissy, but still 


A SOCIETY *^AT HOME. 


99 


my life is carved out for me and I am not my own mis- 
tress. I can drive where I choose and call on whom I 
choose (always supposing that it is someone of whom my 
husband approves), but if he requires my assistance or my 
company my own plans must be put one side to meet his, 
not gracefully and by my own wish, but compulsorily and 
because he desires it. He rules over me, in fact, though 
the reins may be silken ones ; and I don’t choose to be 
ruled. I don’t think it is fair. Husbands and wives are 
co-partners, and should be accorded an equal voice in all 
matters. The idea of a wife’s submission and obedience 
and all that twaddle is out of date. Women won’t sub- 
mit to it any longer, and the sooner men learn the lesson 
the better. ” 

“ Lady Barton would love to hear you talk,” remarked 
Mrs. Bernard. “Those are exactly her sentiments.” 

“I shall be happy to talk with her,” rejoined Lady 
Phyllis. “Is it to be to-morrow then. Cissy? and shall I 
write a note to Colonel Bernard for you to take back 
with you ? ” 

“ Yes, dear ; but be sure to say nothing about the club 
in it.” 

“ You goose ! Haven’t you more trust in me than that 
comes to ? Now, remember. Cissy, that I never interfere 
with another woman’s private affairs. If you choose to 
keep this a secret from your husband to the end of your 
life, I shall not be the one to betray you. I think it is 
cowardly of you, but it is no business of mine. / should 
go to him, if I were you, and tell him the truth straight- 
out, and dare him to prevent your doing as you choose. 
He can’t lock you up; it’s against the law.” 

“ Ah, you don’t know him, Phyllis ; he would bully me 
on the subject morning, noon, and night. I would rather 
never enter the club doors again than subject myself to 
it. And often he — he takes — you know what I mean — 
more than is good for him, and then it is terrible. I 
could not describe it to you. I am in fear of my 
life.” 

“Say no more,” cried Lady Phyllis; “that is quite 
enough. I will never persuade you to confide in him again. 
Cheat him as much as you like. Such a man deserves 


100 


AT HEART A RAKE. 


to be cheated. If you were to poison him, I should not 
be the one to blame you.” 

She closed the note she had been writing as she spoke 
and put it into her companion’s hand, and shortly after- 
ward Mrs. Bernard went back to Moseley Gardens, with 
a comfortable conviction that she had found a powerful 
coadjutor and ally in Lady Phyllis Macnaughten. 


CHAPTER VIIL 


cissy’s ears are boxed. 

It was an unfortunate day for Mrs. Bernard to have 
taken “French leave,” for the colonel happened to have 
encountered a series of disappointments, and his was not 
the heroic temperament to take disappointment well. 
In the first place he had received an invitation to escort 
Miss Nettleford to a matinee at the theater. This was 
the real reason for which he had refused to accompany 
his wife to Lady Phyllis’ “At Home.” There was 
nothing whatever wrong between him and Miss Nettle- 
fold, who was far too uninteresting a lady for any man to 
risk getting into a scrape for, but she listened to all the 
complaints the colonel made about Cissy, and sympa- 
thized with him for having so careless and unaffectionate 
a wife. There are some men who cannot do without this 
sort of silly, sentimental twaddle from the lips of women 
— men like Colonel Bernard, who, having spent the best 
part of their lives in catering for the approbation and 
admiration of the beau sexe, are fain, when time has de- 
veloped their charms without adding to their mental 
qualities, to put up with such appreciation^ as they can 
extract from old maids and widows, who are glad to 
retain any men — never mind how old, how ugly, or how 
stupid — by their side. 

In this way Mrs. and Miss Nettlefold had made the 
colonel welcome at their afternoon tea table, and occa- 
sionally allowed him to escort them to places of amuse- 
ment. He was at all events a man of some position, and 
men were, alas! becoming so scarce on *the list of their 
acquaintance. 

“Poor dear Colonel Bernard ! ” they would say to their 
friends; “it is really heartrending to hear him talk of 

lOI 


102 


AT HEART A RAKE. 


that wife of his, who makes his life a purgatory with her 
tempers and her airs ! And he so good and patient with 
her, too! It is very hard for a man who has positively 
given up all his comforts in life for the sake of a girl who 
hadn’t a penny of her own, to meet with such a sorry 
requital. He says, poor fellow! that he has no peace 
except when he is with us; and, for my part, I always 
make him heartily welcome. We like him so much — 
Letty and myself — we consider him so amiable and 
refined — such a perfect gentleman in every way. Don’t 
we, Letty?” 

“Well, mamma, he ought to have known better than 
to have married a silly, inexperienced girl like Mrs. Ber- 
nard,” Miss Nettlefold would reply. “Why didn’t he 
choose a woman of a sensible age ? Not but what I am 
very sorry for him, for he is a most delightful companion 
— so good-natured and obliging — always ready to do any- 
thing for you, and such a sweet smile. It is quite a 
pleasure to go anywhere under his escort.” 

And consequently Miss Letty had sent the colonel a 
note the day before saying that she had a couple of 
tickets for the Vaudeville, and as mamma had a faceache 
would dear Colonel Bernard consider it too much trouble 
to accompany her instead. 

Colonel Bernard was delighted. An afternoon spent 
in leaning over Miss Nettleford at the theater — puffing 
his spirit-laden breath into her face — whispering his 
time-worn stories into her ear — and initiating her into 
some of the jests which were esteemed “naughty” in 
his day, but at which every girl of the nineteenth century 
could have given him “points” — was much more sooth- 
ing to his vanity than dancing attendance on his wife at 
Lady Phyllis’ “At Home” would have been. So he came 
down to luncheon “dressed to kill,” and brought forward 
a plea of business as an excuse for letting Cissy go alone. 

But while she was enjoying herself with her old friend 
he was doomed to disappointment, for on arrival at the 
Nettlefolds’ he was met by the ancient mother only, who 
informed him that “Letty was so sorry, but her Cousin 
Raynor, whom she had not seen for several months, had 
looked in quite unexpectedly just as she was preparing 


CISSY'S EARS ARE BOXED. 1 03 

for the theater, and so she felt bound to take him with 
her, and she hoped the dear colonel would not mind, but 
stay until they returned and take tea with her instead.” 

But the dear colonel did mind! It was just the sort of 
contretemps to rouse his worst feelings. His vanity was 
mortified — his attentions were slighted, a younger man 
had been put in his stead. And Mrs. Nettlefold did not 
improve matters by adding : 

“You see, colonel, it was fitter the young ones should 
pair off together and leave us seniors to have a quiet 
chat. I hope you have no other engagement this after- 
noon. Letty will be so sorry if she does not see you at 
tea. You must stay with me till she comes home.” 

But the colonel was not to be mollified — he was furious, 
indignant, though he did not dare to show it. He 
declared that he had put off a most important engage- 
ment in order to place himself at Miss Nettlefold’s 
service, and since she had found another escort he must 
hasten to fulfill it. He stalked out of the house with a 
very red face and a very foul tongue, with which he 
called Miss Nettlefold some names which would have 
made her open her eyes, could she have overheard him, 
as he took his way through the Park. He was so child- 
ishly chagrined by the rebuff to his insensate vanity that 
he felt he could not go to his club, nor anywhere, until 
he had obtained “a sop for Cerberus” in the shape of 
some female amenities that should pour balm upon his 
wound. 

He bethought him of a certain Mrs. Harrison, with 
whom he had had a very decided flirtation before her 
marriage, when she had been Miss Lotty Fane — an 
actress at the theater in the garrison town where the 
Martineers had been temporarily located. Lotty Fane, 
as a second-rate artist on a small salary, had been 
flattered by the attentions of a colonel, and made herself 
considerably talked of by yielding to them. Since then 
she had married a respectable land agent, and sent 
Colonel Bernard intelligence of her whereabouts. He 
had never dreamed of visiting her until that afternoon, 
but with his wounded vanity had come a recollection of 
the ci-devant Miss Fane, and he wondered if he should 


104 


AT HEART A RAKE. 


find her at home, and if she would be much flattered by 
receiving a call from him. Her address was in his pocket- 
book, and after a moment’s consideration he wended his 
way thither. He found that the land agent’s offices were 
situated in the Brompton Road, and that there was a 
private entrance to the house. 

Colonel Bernard knocked at the door, almost timidly. 
Mr. Harrison, the land agent, was what he would have 
styled in his vernacular “a cad,” and he felt as if he 
were lowering himself by paying his wife the compliment 
of a call. But his self-love and vanity were his pre- 
dominant feelings, and the prospect of gratifying them, 
even though at the expense of others, his greatest 
pleasure. The little maid who answered the door said 
that Mrs. Harrison was at home, and asked him to walk 
upstairs. The burly colonel felt rather too big for the 
house as he made his way up the narrow staircase into 
the tiny sitting room above, where the agent’s wife was 
seated at needlework. Lotty Fane had been a nice look- 
ing girl with her stage paint and powder on, surmounted 
by a golden wig, but she seemed commonplace and 
almost plain now in a print dress with a black silk apron. 
She did not appear very comfortable either, or pleased to 
see her old acquaintance. She blushed scarlet as he 
came into her presence, and, rising from her chair, 
dropped him a very distant courtesy. The fact is that 
Mrs. Harrison had become very much ashamed of the 
episode in her existence which included the acquaintance 
of Colonel Bernard, and since she had been married to 
an honest man who loved her, she would gladly have 
expunged it from her recollection. The revival of it, 
therefore, as typified by the colonel’s visit, was anything 
but agreeable, and her looks said so. But he was too 
much occupied with himself and his own importance to 
perceive it. 

“Well, Lotty,” he commenced familiarly, “don’t you 
know me ? Have you forgotten all about Portsmouth ? 
You are altered, though — upon my word, I should hardly 
have known you! What have you done to yourself? 
Where are all the little curls gone that I used to admire 
so much ? It is too bad of you to tuck them out of 


CISSTS EARS ARE BOXED. 


105 

sight. But why don’t you speak? Aren’t you glad to 
see me ? 

“Oh, of course, colonel,” replied the young woman, 
who did not know what to say. “Will you not take 
a chair ? Shall I call my husband ? Have you any busi- 
ness with him ? ” 

“Husband — no! What, do we want with husbands? 
Leave the man to his work. It will not be the first time 
that we have entertained each other, eh ? But I can’t 
say I think marriage has improved you, Lotty. You are 
plumper certainly, but not so lissome as you used to be 
in the old days. Let me see. How long was it ago ? 
two years, eh ? when you were playing Aladdin in the 
Christmas pantomime, and knocked me with those trim 
little ankles and feet of yours. Are they as pretty as 
ever? Let us see!” said the colonel, as with his stick 
he tried to lift her skirt from her feet. 

The girl rose, trembling, and said in a nervous manner : 

“Colonel Bernard, please to remember that I am a 
married woman now. I have left the stage for good and 
all, and I would rather forget the time when I was so 
foolish.” 

“Nonsense, nonsense, my dear! pretty women never 
forget — we won’t let them. What has marriage got to do 
with it ? It cannot make us strangers. Why, I’m mar- 
ried myself, but you see I have not forgotten you, nor 
ever mean to, either. But you haven’t given me a kiss 
yet. That’s not friendly. Come ! I must have one, if 
only for old acquaintance’ sake ! ” > 

He left his seat and approached her, as he spoke, but 
she backed away from him and stood on the defensive 
against the wall. 

“No, no! you must not! I cannot allow it. All that 
sort of thing is over between us forever. My husband 
would be angry.” 

“Husband be !” exclaimed the colonel, as, secure 

in his own fascinations, he encroached upon the little 
fortress the woman had erected before her in the s^pe 
of a small table. “ I am not going to give up my kiss for 
all the cads in London — no, by Jove! So let the land 
agent look after himself ! I’ll have that kiss, or ” 


io6 


AT HEART A RAKE. 


<<I’ni if you will!” exclaimed an irate voice, as 

a powerfully built man burst into the room and seized 
the colonel by the shirt collar. 

“ Oh, Jack! I am so glad you’ve come ! ” cried Lotty, in 
tears of agitation and distress. 

^‘Here, here! you, sir — what are you about?” said 
Colonel Bernard, as he felt that his shirt collar was being 
irrevocably damaged. 

“What am I about? Why, holding a cad by the 
collar; and I don’t let him go either, till I’ve kicked him 
down my stairs.” 

“You cannot; you dare not!” fumed his adversary. 
“ Do you know who I am, sir ? I am Colonel Bernard 
of the Martineers! ” 

“I don’t care who you are — you might be the Prince 
of, Wales himself. I found you here, on my premises, 
attempting to insult my wife — and I’ll kick you out into 
the street like a sack of coals! ” 

As the land agent spoke, he kept a tight grasp upon 
the colonel’s collar, who grew redder and fumed and 
gasped so that he could hardly speak. The knowledge, 
also, that Mr. Harrison was powerfully applying his boot 
to the nether portion of his person was not calculated 
to soothe his perturbation. 

“Take that, you old brute — and that — and that, and 
that! ” exclaimed the land agent, as he hustled the grand 
colonel of the Martineers down the narrow staircase of 
his dwelling and landed him on the door mat, consider- 
ably the worse for wear. 

“ I’ll have the law on you for this ! ” cried Bernard, as 
he scrambled up on his feet. “ I’ll make you pay for 
assaulting a man in my position ! You’ll wish you had 
thought twice before you laid your hand on me!” he 
continued, as he smoothed his battered hat and tried to 
arrange his tumbled attire. 

“Do, by all means!” retorted Harrison. “I’d be 
proud to meet you in court and let the public hear your 
story. It would be cheap at any price. I find you try- 
ing to kiss my wife against her will, and you think, be- 
cause you’re a colonel perhaps, that the law would give 
it in your favor. Do you think I don’t know all 


CISSY’S EARS ARE BOXED. 


107 

about you, and the way you treated that girl at Ports- 
mouth ? Lotty has told me all about it, and now that 
I’ve made her an honest woman, you would like to come 
with your dirty kisses and your flatteries and unmake 
her, perhaps. Now look here, my fine boaster! If ever 
I catch you on my premises again, I won’t let you off 
with a whole skin, if I pay my whole income for it ! 
Get out as quick as you can, or I shan’t be able to keep 
my hands off you for long.” 

“You are a low, vulgar cad ! ” replied the colonel, try- 
ing to be dignified, “and I shall not stoop to bandy words 
with you. But having taken what you are pleased to 
call, I suppose, your revenge, you will scarcely expect 
me to go out into the road in this condition. You will 
at least let me go into a room to arrange the disordered 
state of my clothes.” 

“ Not a bit of it ! ” replied John Harrison. “Out you 
go, just as you are. If the crowd laugh at you, so much 
the better. If they ask you what is the matter, tell 
them you were caught kissing another man’s wife, 
and they will say it served you right. Now, there’s the 
door my fine fellow, and you can take your choice — go 
out, or be kicked out ! ” 

The land agent threw wide the portal as he spoke, and 
the hapless colonel had no alternative but to slink away 
as best he could, and hail the first hansom he met, 
into which he crept amid the jeerings of the bystanders, 
who addressed a few questions to him, more pertinent 
than polite. Having his latchkey, he managed, on reach- 
ing Moseley Gardens, to sneak up to his bedroom without 
encountering the sharp eyes of the servants. But here 
a fresh annoyance awaited him — the telegram from Lady 
Phyllis Macnaughten, to say she intended keeping Cissy 
for the evening. When you are woefully out of temper, 
and feel moreover that the annoyance you are suffering 
from is entirely due to your own fault, it is an extra 
aggravation to have no legitimate butt to vent it on. 
Colonel Bernard felt the absence of his wife on that par- 
ticular evening to be a fresh injury, and he swore at all 
women collectively. There was some hope, however, 
that a good dinner and a glass of his favorite Burgundy 


lo8 AT HEART A RAKE. 

might soothe his perturbed feelings. Having rearranged 
his damaged wardrobe, therefore, he descended to the 
dining room to find that the fish was sodden and vilely 
fried, and the shoulder of mutton underdone. This 
accident added the last drop to the colonel’s wrath and 
paved the way for a warm reception for his wife on her 
return home. 

As Phyllis’ carriage deposited her at her own door. 
Cissy heard her heart beating, notwithstanding the wire 
that had been sent to say where she was. She ran up the 
steps to the hall-door all of a tremble, and knocked with 
a shaking hand. Jane’s first words did not reassure her; 

Oh, lor, ma’am ! I am glad you have come home.” 

“Why, what’s the matter ? Is the colonel in? Didn’t 
he get my telegram ?” 

“Oh, yes, ma’am ! that’s all right enough, but he have 
been going on that dreadful ever since dinner as you 
never did. Cook had almost made up her mind as she’d 
go without warning and before you came home, for she 
say it’s what no mortial can abide.” 

Cissy leaned up against the passage wall for support. 

“Oh, Jane! you frighten me. What is it all about? 
Was the dinner wrong ? ” 

“Well, it might have been better, perhaps, but no 
reasonable creature would have made sich a fuss about it. 
He’s been just raving. I pity you, I do. But don’t you 
be afraid on him — I’ll stand by you.” 

“ Oh, Jane I I daren’t go up alone. Do come with 
me,” said poor Cissy, who could hardly stand for fright. 
But at this juncture the colonel’s voice was heard 
thundering down the staircase : 

“Who’s there ? Is that Mrs. Bernard? Why doesn’t 
she come upstairs, Jane? Tell Mrs. Bernard that I am 
waiting for her.” 

“All right, sir ! she’s coming,” answered the servant, 
as she urged her mistress to do as she was bid. 

Cissy felt paralyzed with terror. Her heart beat to 
suffocation. She could only murmur, “Oh, Jane ! you 
must come too,” as she slowly mounted to the drawing 
room to meet her master. 

Colonel Bernard was waiting at the head of the stairs 


C/SSV’S EARS ARE BOXED. 109 

to receive her. As she reached his side, he placed his 
hand on her shoulder and pushed her before him into the 
drawing room, slamming the door behind them and thus 
preventing the entrance of the servant, whose promise of 
protection he had overheard. 

“ And now, Mrs. Bernard,” he commenced, as soon as 
they found themselves alone, “ what have you to say for 
yourself ? ” 

Cissy regarded him shrinkingly. 

“What do you expect me to say?” she replied. 
“ Phyllis sent you a wire to tell you where I was.” 

“ That is no answer to my question. Of course Lady 
Phyllis would send a wire when you had consented to 
stay with her. But what do you mean by accepting invi- 
tations without any reference to me ? What right have 
you to absent yourself from my house without leave? 
Your proper place is here., looking after my comfort — 
seeing that my dinner is properly cooked, that the 
servants do their duty, instead of sitting down to eat a 
good dinner yourself, while your husband has to put up 
with cold fish and raw mutton. It’s reversing the order 
of things, Mrs. Bernard, and if you don’t know it you 
must be taught it ! ” 

“I’m sorry the dinner was spoiled,” replied his wife. 
“ It was so plain, I thought cook could not make a 
mistake.” 

Plain ! I should think it was — ^deucedly plain ! Not 
fit for a dog, in fact ; and it’s not what I’ve been used to, 
Mrs. Bernard, let me tell you that ! ” 

But, Henry, it was impossible for me to know it, or I 
would have come home, of course, only Phyllis said she 
was sure you would not mind just for once in a way ; and 
it is so long since we met, and we had so much to say to 
each other.” 

“ Faugh ! a lot of twaddle that no one else would listen 
to. Is that any excuse — is anything an excuse for 
neglecting your husband and your duty ? If you imagine 
I married you — a pauper — in order that you should gali- 
vant about the town while I remained at home to super- 
intend the housekeeping, you are very much mistaken. 
I married you in order that I might have a little comfort 


I lO 


AT HEART A RAKE. 


in my own house, and I intend to have it, too. You ought 
to be ashamed of yourself ! ” 

“It is the very first time,” faltered Cissy. 

“And it will be the very last time too ! ” sneered the 
colonel. “ The annoyance I have suffered this day beats 
anything I ever experienced ! ” 

“ It A very anooying of cook not to be more careful, 
when she knows how particular you are about your 
dinner,” said the girl, not knowing what else to say. 

“ It is very annoying of you^ you mean,” rejoined the 
colonel. “ What is the good of you, if you don’t see after 
such things ? You had to do it at home, I warrant ! I 
took you from the very depths of poverty — not enough 
to eat, half the days in the week.” 

“ It’s not true ! ” exclaimed his wife, with a momentary 
courage born of despair. “We always had enough to eat 
at home, and we were very happy there,” with a low sob. 

“And so was I very happy before I saw you, and very 
sorry I am that I ever did see you. When I think of the 
old days when I was in the service — ^before I was such a 
fool to leave it on your account ; when I remember what 
I was then, admired, looked up to, the pet of society, 
courted on all sides and invited everywhere — and com- 
pare them with these dirty rooms and your filthy dinners 
of blackened fish and raw mutton — by jingo ! I wish I 
had cut my throat before I had given it all up ! ” 

“So do I,” replied Cissy ; and then, struck by the in- 
eptitude of the remark, she added, “that is, if it would 
have made you happier, Henry.” 

“ Very well ; very well ! ” said the colonel sarcastically. 
“ I shall not forget your words, madam. You wish I was 
dead, do you ? You’d like to see a knife drawn across 
my throat ! That’s a nice thing for a wife to say — a wife 
whom I raised from nothing, positively nothing, to the 
honor of bearing my name. I shall not forget it, you 
may rest assured of that, and I’ll make you suffer for it, 
as sure as my name’s Henry Bernard. And now have 
you anything more to say ? ” 

“ Lady Phyllis Macnaughten sent you this note,” said 
Cissy, holding it out to him. He took it and read it with 
a frown. 


CISSY’S EARS ARE BOXED. 


Ill 


No, you’ll not drive with her to-morrow afternoon — 
you’ll not drive with anybody nor go out anywhere again, 
until you have learned to do your duty. Your duty is 
here, madam, here — here — here '' — with an emphatic bang 
on the table with his fist at each word ; “ and you shall 
have neither friends nor amusements until you have 
learned how to obey me ! ” 

“You are unfair, unjust !” replied his wife, relapsing 
into tears. “ I have hardly had a friend since you 
married me. You have kept me like a prisoner. You go 
out every day yourself, but I am supposed never to want 
any amusement. My life is a misery to me ; but I will 
not hold my tongue about it any longer. If I am not 
to see Lady Phyllis Macnaughten, who was my friend 
long before I married you, she shall know the reason. 
I will tell her and everybody what an unhappy girl 
I am.” 

This assurance on the part of trembling little Cissy took 
Colonel Bernard completely by surprise. He had not 
believed that it was in her to take the bull by the horns 
after such a fashion ; but her boldness excited his anger 
still more against her. He was astonished ; it was as if 
she had suddenly turned and bit him. He forgot himself, 
and with a sudden impulse of rage, he boxed her ears 
smartly. 

Cissy stood aghast at the insult — then, with a cry of 
indignation and rage she turned from him and ran 
upstairs. As soon as she had left him, the colonel saw 
that he had made a mistake. He was six foot two in his 
stockings and weighed sixteen stone — she was five foot 
nothing and turned the scale at seven. It was a dastardly 
action to have struck her, when she had no possibility of 
redress. But the majority of men are cowards — rank, 
unmitigated cowards — when they have only their wives 
to deal with and no one is standing by. 

Cissy ran upstairs as fast as her shaking little legs 
would carry her, and knocked with trembling fingers at 
Jane’s bedroom door. 

“Let me in, Jane! Let mein, quick!” she gasped, 
and the servant unlocked the door. 

“Why, lor, my dear lady! whatever is the matter?” 


I 12 


AT HEART A RAKE. 


she demanded, as she saw her mistress’ frightened 
demeanor. 

“The colonel has struck me! I am afraid of him ! 
I can’t stay alone with him. You must let me sleep 
with you, Jane!” 

“Struck you, has he? Well, I thought it would come 
to that some day, and I’m your witness how he’s served 
you all along!” exclaimed Jane. “Come in, my dear 
lady, and lie down here. No one shan’t get in after you 
unless it’s over my body.” 

And then the colonel heard the door close again and the 
key turn in the lock. He did not feel very comfortable 
at the turn affairs had taken. He had struck the blow 
almost before he was aware of what he was doing, and he 
had never imagined that Cissy would have resented it in 
such a fashion. 

That she should have been bold enough to make his 
conduct public, and confide in his own servants, was 
what he would himself have termed “an eye-opener.” 
He felt very uncomfortable as he sat in the drawing 
room by himself, and imagined what the two women 
were saying to each other above. After a while spent in 
meditation, he went up to his room and lay awake half 
the night, wondering what would be the end of it all, 
and what had given rise to this unexpected ebullition of 
resentment on his wife’s part. Would she write home 
and tell her mother of his treatment — would she confide 
in Lady Phyllis Macnaughten, as she had done in Jane, 
and make it disagreeable for him all around. Had he 
not better soothe, instead of further irritating her, and 
accede to her wish to spend the following afternoon 
with her friend. He might make her silence the con- 
dition of his indulgence. 

Satisfied with the decision at which he had arrived. 
Colonel Bernard went to sleep and expected to meet his 
wife the next morning as if nothing unusual had occurred 
between them. 

“Well! has my naughty girl recovered her temper 
this morning?” he inquired, with an air of would-be 
playfulness, as he encountered her at the breakfast 
table. 


C/SSY*S EARS ARE BOXED. 1 13 

“I was not aware that I had been ‘naughty,’” she 
replied coldly. 

“What, not to run away from your husband and lock 
yourself up with Jane ?” said the colonel, with a nervous 
smile. 

“I did that, in order that you should not strike me a 
second time.” 

“Come, Cissy! forget and forgive. I was not think- 
ing of what I was doing. It’s my first offense, you know, 
and I promise you it shall not occur again. Isn’t that 
sufficient ?” 

“I don’t think so,” said the girl. The colonel did not 
quite know what to make of her. She had evidently got 
the bit between her teeth. He took Phyllis’ note from 
his pocket, and fingered it nervously. 

“If you had only waited a little longer last night, I 
should have told you that you had my permission to 
accept this invitation from your friend — only you were 
so hasty and impulsive — it is a woman’s greatest fault.” 

“ I thought you said just now that it was yourself who 
was hasty and impulsive,” remarked his wife. 

“ By Jove! she had me there,” thought the colonel, but 
all he answered was; 

“Well, never mind that. I was about to tell you that 
you can drive with Lady Phyllis this afternoon — you can 
send her a wire to say you have my leave to do so. So 
now I suppose you will be satisfied. But I must have no 
more confidences between Jane and you. It is most 
degrading that you should let these low creatures know 
all that takes place between your husband and yourself. 
Our relationship to one another is sacred, remember.” 

“I wish you had kept it so,” said Cissy. 

Colonel Bernard could hardly believe his ears. Was 
it Cissy who was speaking, or some changeling in her 
stead. He had not believed it possible she had so much 
pluck. 

“ Well, perhaps I do the same. There’s a concession 
for you. And you can visit your friend this afternoon, 
on condition that you do not tell her anything about this 
foolish little affair. Do you agree?” 

“To what?” asked his wife. 


AT HEART A RAKE. 


I14 

“That Lady Phyllis Macnaughten is not to hear of 
our difference.” 

“I do not suppose it would interest her. She can 
read of men ill-using their wives in the newspaper any 
day.” 

“ And are you not grateful for my concession, then ?” 

“What concession ? ” 

“In allowing you to drive with your friend this after- 
noon.” 

“I intended to drive with her,” said Cissy quietly. 

“What, without my permission? Do you mean to say 
that you do not owe me your obedience ?” 

“ I think your behavior has canceled that obligation 
on my part. I believe anybody who heard of it would 
say the same.” 

“You don’t mean to say you are going to repeat it 
all over the town,” exclaimed the colonel, with genuine 
alarm. 

“Not if you accede me the liberty which every. woman 
has the right to demand from her husband — liberty to 
choose my own friends, and follow my own pursuits for 
the future.” 

“ Does that signify that I am to be left to eat all my 
meals by myself ? ” 

“No, that was an accident, as I have already told you, 
and it shall not happen again. But I am going to drive 
with Lady Phyllis to-day, all the same.” 

“Oh, go to the devil!” said the colonel angrily, for he 
perceived that he had got the worst of the argument; 
that that unlucky blow had relaxed his power over his 
wife; and that, unless he wished the story to be made 
common property, he should have to give her more of 
her own way in the future. 

This conviction, together with the recollection of the 
treatment he had received at the hands of “that cad, 
Harrison,” the day before, and the defalcation of his 
quondam admirer. Miss Nettlefold, ’caused him to be in 
an execrable temper for the rest of the day, though he 
dared not show it openly either to his wife or his 
servants. 

And Cissy went for a drive with her friend Lady 


CISSY* S EARS ARE BOXED. 


IIS 

Phyllis, and returned punctually to dinner, which she 
sat through in silence; not deigning to give her husband 
a single hint of where she had been or what she had 
done. 

For the first time in his married life, the bully colonel 
felt the tables were turned on him, and by his own hand. 


CHAPTER IX. 


THE PUSHAHEAD CLUB. 

Lady Phyllis Macnaughten was punctual in calling ' 
for her little friend, and Mrs. Bernard skipped into the 
carriage as if everything were right, but they had not 
driven far from Moseley Gardens before Phyllis per- 
ceived that all was not as it should be. Cissy’s eyes did 
not bear any traces of weeping, nor did she utter a com- 
plaint — but there was a hard look about her mouth which 
had not been there before, and her manner was distrait 
and preoccupied. 

“What is the matter?” demanded Lady Phyllis, as 
she laid her hand upon Cissy’s. The girl looked her 
straight in the face. 

“ Phyllis, you asked me yesterday if I had ever been 
struck, and I answered no. I could not say that to-day.” 

“ My dear, he has surely never dared ” 

Mrs. Bernard nodded her head oracularly. 

“ Oh, the brute ! ” cried Lady Phyllis ; “wouldn’t I like 
to see someone do the same to him ! How could he have 
the heart to do it — to you, who are such a little thing. 
He must be a coward ! What did you say to him ?” 

“ Nothing. I went upstairs and slept with the house- 
maid all night.” 

Phyllis looked shocked. This was a measure which 
her pride could never have permitted her to take under 
any circumstances. 

“ With the housemaid ! Oh, then the servants know of 
it ? How dreadful ! Cissy, you shouldn’t have done that. 

It would have been better to have sat up all night.” 

“ And been made a butt all the time for his insults and 
his blows ? No, I had not the courage. I was afraid to 
stay alone with him. Jane was better than nobody. I 
felt he would be ashamed to follow me up there.” 


THE PUSHAHEAD CLUB. 


I17 

“ It is very, very terrible,” said Lady Phyllis, “ and a 
stop must be put to it, somehow. Cissy, have you no 
relations who would interfere on your behalf ? How old 
are your brothers ? As you have no father, they would 
be the proper persons to take up your cause.” 

‘‘They would be of no good, Phyllis. The oldest is 
only sixteen. They are only boys. No, if I cannot find 
a way out of it myself, I must continue to bear it as 
best I may.” 

“ My dear Cissy, how should a poor little weak thing 
like you find a way out of it for yourself ? Why, you 
know you are frightened of the man.” 

“ I know I am— so frightened that I think fear has 
made me desperate. But he is frightened in his turn to- 
day. He thinks I am going to tell you about it. And he 
is right.” 

“ He will be all the more angry with you, I am afraid, 
when he finds that out.” 

“ He won’t find it out. I don’t mean to tell him. I 
mean to keep him on tenter-hooks. Nothing makes him 
so angry as when I pretend to be so stupid that I cannot 
understand what he means. He cannot very well blame 
me for being stupid, you know, because that is not my 
own doing. But I understand perfectly, all the while,” 
said Cissy, with a cunning look that betokened worse for 
the man who thoroughly roused her than the decision of 
the cleverest, most courageous woman God ever made. 
Cunning, silly people are the most dangerous adversaries 
we can encounter in this world. 

“ I believe, after all, that you know how to hold your 
own with him,” laughed Lady Phyllis. “But here we are 
in Baker Street. Tell the man the number of the club. 
Cissy. ” 

“Three hundred, on the left,” said Cissy, and in a 
minute after they were deposited at the doors. 

Lady Phyllis was in a state of great inward excitement 
as she entered the portals of the Pushahead Club. She 
halted a moment on the door step and inflated her nos- 
trils, and drew in the air of Liberty with her breath. 
This was what she had dreamed of for so long, what she 
had had no idea existed, till the day before, a Hall of 


ii8 


AT HEART A RAKE. 


Freedom for Women. Here was what men had insisted 
could never be : a place where woipen met in friendship 
and sympathy together, united by the same ties, working 
for the same cause — banded together to right their 
wrongs, and to help their sex to evade the tyranny of 
man. The very place for such as poor Cissy, Phyllis 
thought, as the vision passed through her , mind, and she 
felt glad that her little friend had found such a harbor of 
refuge, the assistance of which she might sorely need 
some day. 

Lady Barton, who was a charming president and 
hostess, was delighted to make the acquaintance of Lady 
Phyllis Macnaughten, and volunteered to show her 
through the building before they entered the guests’ re- 
ception rooms. Of course the ladies chatted together 
first, and Phyllis told Lady Barton exactly how she was 
situated and how charmed she had been to hear from 
Mrs. Bernard of the institution of the Pushahead ; how 
often she had dreamed of such a haven for women, and 
how delighted she would be to become one of its members 
— i e.y if the president could assure her that her pres- 
ence would be welcome among them. 

“My dear Lady Phyllis, what an idea!” exclaimed 
Lady Barton. “Why, the committee will, I am sure, be 
charmed to receive your name for election. I have noth- 
ing to do with that part of the business, you know. It 
is left entirely to the ladies of the committee, but I have 
no doubt of the result. We shall be proud to have you 
as a member. This is our restaurant,” continued Lady 
Barton, throwing open the swinging door of a magnificent 
apartment, furnished in true restaurant style, with sepa- 
rately laid tables, decorated with flowers, and covered 
with silver and glass. 

“ Oh, this is delightful ! ” cried Phyllis ; “ but do your 
members often dine at the club ? ” 

Some of them scarcely ever dine anywhere else, but 
they are generally the unmarried ladies,” replied the 
president; “but we serve sometimes as many as two 
hundred luncheons in the course of the day. Meals can 
be had here at anytime up to ten o’clock at night. Very 
convenient for ladies who want to go to the theater, or 


THE PUSHAHEAD CLUB. 


I19 

any evening entertainment. And they can bring their 
gentlemen friends here too," added Lady Barton, with a 
giggle ; “that is, they can introduce them to afternoon 
tea at any time between the hours of five and seven, and 
if they wish to ask them to dinner they hand in their 
names the day before. We are obliged to keep a little 
surveillance over our younger members," concluded the 
president, with a maternal smile at Mrs. Bernard. 

“ Now, Lady Barton, I am sure you cannot complain of 
me^" said Cissy, blushing ; “ for it is seldom enough that 
I trouble you with any of my friends at dinner. I don’t 
get the opportunity to do it." 

“ Well, well, we never tell tales out of school in the 
Pushahead," replied Lady Barton, and Phyllis might have 
felt surprised at the conciliatory nature of the remark in 
a temple dedicated to Liberty, had not her attention been 
diverted by the appearance of a lady whom at first sight 
she mistook for a gentleman. She had walked leisurely 
into the restaurant, apparently for a late luncheon, and 
removed her hat on entering, just as a man would have 
done. Her hair was cut quite short to her head, and 
parted on one side. She wore a starched white shirt, 
with collar, tie, and studs, her cloak, coat, or jacket, it is 
difficult to know how to designate it — descended to below 
her knees — her cuffs were very much en Evidence., and the 
only part of her dress which proved her female was a 
scanty black skirt, which fell to her ankles, and in a 
strong wind might well have been mistaken for those 
articles which ladies are said to be so desirous to wear. 

“What an extraordinary person!" whispered Lady 
Phyllis, with open eyes. 

“ Oh, hush 1 " said Lady Barton. “That is Miss Sel- 
linger, one of our most distinguished members. She is 
the lady who has so successfully fought our battles with 
the omnibus conductors, for refusing to stop when ordered 
to do so. She poked out the eye of one of the conduc- 
tors with the ferule of her umbrella, and had heavy costs 
to pay in consequence, but they are more attentive to 
one’s wishes since. Yes, indeed, we owe a great deal to 
Miss Sellinger. Let me introduce you to her." 

And thereupon. Lady Phyllis found herself in a posi- 


120 


AT HEART A RAJCE. 


tion to add Miss Sellinger’s name to the list of her ac- 
quaintance. But she could not help letting her eye rove, 
during the conversation that ensued, over the familiar 
costume which she had been used to see under such dif- 
ferent circumstances. 

“But we must not detain Lady Phyllis,” Lady Barton 
interposed. “ She has not seen over our domains yet. 
This,” she continued, passing into another apartment, “is 
our smoking room.” 

“But what is the use of that?” demanded Phyllis. 
The president regarded her with a calm sort of pity. 

“ It is evident that you do not know half the privileges 
that we enjoy in the Pushahead, Lady Phyllis. I think 
there is not one in ten of our members that does not 
smoke, and pretty regularly into the bargain.” 

“ Ladies smoke ! ” cried Lady Phyllis, but she said no 
more, for there were about forty women already occupy- 
ing the smoking divan, and apparently enjoying them- 
selves over the occupation. 

“Ladies,” said the president, “this is Lady Phyllis 
Macnaughten, who is honoring us by making an inspec- 
tion of our premises.” 

Some of the smokers bowed — others nodded in a 
familiar manner — one of them said : 

“Well, I hope Lady Phyllis has come to the conclusion 
that we know how to take care of ourselves.” 

“ I have indeed ! ” returned Phyllis, with a smile. 

“Here are our lavatories and dressing rooms,” said 
Lady Barton, as they left the smoking divan behind them. 

“But does anybody sleep here?” asked Phyllis, in 
surprise. 

“No, we have no chambers as yet. We have not 
room enough ; no one lives on the premises except 
myself and servants. But these rooms are for the use of 
such ladies as think it too far to go home in case of 
wishing to change their dress for the evening, so do it 
here. There are their separate drawers, you see, which 
contain their evening dresses ” 

“Oh, just as Ronald — that is, Mr. Macnaughten, you 
know — keeps a dress suit at his club in case a friend asks 
him out suddenly and he has no time to come home.” 


THE PUSHAHEAD CLUB. 


I2I 


“ Just so. The men have had the same privileges for 
years past. It is high time we shared it.” 

“It’s awful fun for those who can do it,” grumbled 
Cissy. “ No one need know where they’ve gone, or whom 
they’ve gone with. I know I should often skip off to the 
theater this way, if I only had a good excuse to make for 
my absence from home.” 

“Ah, Cissy, such things are meant for older, more 
sensible women than you,” said Phyllis, laughing. “I 
think you are better as you are for a little while longer. 
But I never saw anything more complete than your 
arrangements. Lady Barton. You appear to have thought 
of everything. I had no idea your club would be so like 
a gentleman’s club as this.” 

“And why should it not be. Lady Phyllis ? ” was the 
rejoinder. “It was instituted to show the other sex that 
we are human creatures — items of society, with the same 
requirements and the ability to make proper use of our 
advantages as themselves ; so it would not do to be 
behind them in any particular.” 

“ No, indeed, and why should we not be entitled to 
as many good things as they are ? And they have been 
saying all the time that we woman could not support an 
establishment like this ; that we must needs come to 
loggerheads over it ; that only men can agree together, 
and that we talk too much of our own affairs and each 
other’s ever to be at peace for long together. Isn’t it 
nonsense ? ” 

“ Nonsense, indeed, my dear Lady Phyllis. The gen- 
tlemen will have to alter their opinions upon this and many 
other things before long. They will find that we are as 
capable of maintaining a social establishment by our- 
selves, as of defeating them in examinations and rivaling 
them in sports. The Crystal Palace Cycle Races came off 
this morning, and many of the cyclists are here at present, 
changing their uniforms. Here is one on her way to 
her dressing room. Good-afternoon, Miss Nelson,” con- 
tinued the president, as the lady in question approached 
their party. “ I am sorry you were not the winner this 
morning, but all cannot be equally successful.” 

“Better luck next time,” replied the cyclist, who was 


122 


AT HEART A RAKE. 


arrayed in a Norfolk jacket, knickerbockers and stock- 
ings, like a young fellow going after the rabbits. “ But, 

it (I beg your pardon, but it does make a woman 

lose her temper). Hang it, I suppose I should have said, 
it was the most deucedly unfair thing I ever saw. Ren- 
shaw drew the outside edge as true as I stand here ; I saw 
her do it myself, and she tucked it up under her sleeve, 
and took another slip. There’s cheating for you. 
When it came to my turn to draw, there was her beastly 
slip on the table again, and, as bad luck would have it, 
I picked it up and had no chance to chuck it away as the 

fellow was close by me at the time. 1 mean, hang 

him.” 

‘‘ Oh, well, well ! ” interposed the president, who 
looked a little uneasy under this exhibition, “we must 
hope for better things next time. Miss Nelson. Your 
dressing room is quite ready for you. Good-afternoon, ’ 
and she hurried Lady Phyllis and Cissy away. 

The inspection of the dressing rooms brought the 
ladies round to the library, reception, and committee 
rooms, all of which were lofty, well furnished, and 
decorated in the latest style. In the reception room, 
where most of the members were at that time assembled. 
Lady Phyllis Macnaughten met with an enthusiastic 
welcome. Lady Barton introduced all the principal 
members of the club to her, and she was soon engaged 
in an animated conversation with Miss Noble and Lady 
Alexander Fox, of whose antecedents she had heard, but 
whom she had never met before. She looked at her 
with interest — the heroine (as Captain Austin had said) of 
one of the nastiest divorce cases that had ever filled 
three columns of the daily papers for several days in 
succession. She had expected to see a coarse, rough- 
mannered, loud-voiced person ; but she was agreeably 
disappointed. Lady Alexander was one of the sweetest, 
gentlest, most silvery-tongued women in creation. She 
was a tall blonde, with soft blue eyes and a winning smile. 
She was dressed in faultless taste, and looked a high- 
born woman from head to foot. Lady Phyllis took an 
exceptional fancy for her. She questioned whether she 
could have been correctly informed ; whether this were 


THE PUSHAHEAD CLUB 


123 


really the woman whom all London had spoken of in 
terms of contempt, and if she were, whether the whole 
world had not been mistaken, and only Lady Alexander 
Fox right. She listened to her conversation with 
pleasure, and thought that Miss Noble, the author of 
“The Revolt of the Harem,” was not to be compared 
with her, either in flow of language or charm of manner. 
All the committee ladies gathered round Phyllis, and 
thanked her for coming to visit them and go over their 
domains. 

“And oh. Lady Phyllis !” cried one enthusiast, “how 
I do hope you will become a member of the Pushahead. 
You^ with your entree to society, and your many oppor- 
tunities of spreading the knowledge of what you see and 
hear with us, far and wide, might be the means of start- 
ing another club, for we are sadly hampered for room 
here already. We have five hundred members.” 

“And each one wanting a dressing room to herself,” 
interposed Lady Barton. 

“ How I wish you could have known our dear Miss 
Moberley ! ” sighed Lady Matthew Winterton. “Such 
a woman. Lady Phyllis ! Her death is the greatest blow 
we have sustained since we started. You would have 
been charmed with her experiences. She had shot 
eleven lions to her own gun, I think.” 

“Oh, yes!” exclaimed another lady, “and brought 
home a darling little lion cub, and it was so tame, till 
one day it took to gnawing her ankles, and they had to 
send for a doctor to get it off, and she was obliged to 
send it to the Zoo. Such a pity ! just as it had begun to 
know her, and run when she called it.” 

“Yes, you would have loved her as a sister, as we all 
did,” said Lady Alexander Fox, in her dulcet tones, “but 
she has gone from us for ever.” 

“ No such thing ! ” interpolated another voice. “It is 
only your ignorance that makes you think so. Lady Alex- 
ander. I saw and spoke to her last evening, through 
the mediumship of Mrs. Pooley Poole.” 

Lady Phyllis looked up, astonished. 

“We all respect your theories, Mrs. Maxwell,” replied 
Lady Matthew Winterton, “but this is not the time to 


124 


AT HEART A RAKE. 


introduce them. Strangers might be alarmed, or offended, 
by a relation of your experiences in spiritualism.” 

‘‘More fools they !” responded Mrs. Maxwell tartly. 
“ If a thing is true, the sooner we recognize the fact, the 
better. Spiritualism is a truth, as I am able to testify, 
so why should I be ashamed to acknowledge it ? You 
say that Miss Moberley is gone — and I say it is not true. 
She cannot be gone since she is here, at this moment. I 
see her quite distinctly, standing beside that lady ” — ■ 
pointing to Lady Phyllis. 

“Oh ! ” exclaimed Phyllis, in a faint voice, “I think it 
must be time for me to go home.” 

“ Pray do not think of such a thing,” said the presi^ 
dent. “I hope you will do me the honor to take tea with 
me and these ladies here.” 

She waved her hand toward Lady Alexander, Lady 
Matthew, and Miss Noble — upon which the discomfited 
spiritualist walked away, murmuring to herself. A 
recherche little meal followed, and Phyllis, after a couple 
of hours’ delightful talk, rose to leave with Cissy; shaking 
hands cordially with her new-made friends before they 
parted. Her head was burning with new ideas — her 
heart palpitating with excitement — she was enchanted 
with all she had seen and heard, and openly expressed her 
gratitude to Cissy for having introduced her to such a 
charming set of women. It is true that the cycling, the 
smoking, the swearing, and the spiritualism had some- 
what startled her; but she decided that if you set up a 
representative club, you must expect to find, and you 
should wish to get, all sorts of women together — anyone, 
as she said to Cissy — that will help to show the world of 
what the sex is capable. The gloom that settled down 
on her little friend’s face as they neared Moseley Gardens 
reminded Phyllis of what she had confided to her on 
starting. 

“Ah, my poor Cissy ! ” she said; “ this club may be 
of the greatest service to you yet. Lady Alexander was 
telling me the good they had done with regard to stopping 
cruelty to animals — so surely they would be still more 
energetic when the cruelty concerns one of their own sex. 
If ever I am a member of that club, the first thing I shall 


THE PUSHAHEAD CLUB. 


125 


advocate is holding out the hand of help and fellowship 
to such poor women as are subject to the tyranny or 
brutality of men. For the laws are terribly against us, 
Cissy, to this day; and I do not suppose even a poor little 
weak thing like you would get any redress for your 
wrongs until you were within an inch of your life.” 

‘‘I don’t suppose I should,” replied Mrs. Bernard 
sadly. “But you must not call it by so grand a name, 
Phyllis. He only boxed my ears, after all.” 

“And enough, too!” cried Lady Phyllis indignantly. 
“I should like to see Mr. Macnaughten, or any other 
man, box my ears. I’d walk out of his house the very 
same day.” 

“But you have an aristocratic family and name to pro- 
tect you, Phyllis, and I have nobody. If I left the colonel, 
I might go to the workhouse. My mother could not take 
me back again. They are very badly off as it is, and I 
have no influential friends like you.” 

“Cissy, that is very naughty of you to say,” replied 
Lady Phyllis, “/am your friend, and if ever you want a 
home, you shall find one with me. Now, remember, that 
is a bargain. I won’t have you knocked about by a brute 
like Colonel Bernard. It is about time we women stuck 
up for one another and put down such tyranny. I am 
sure the members of the Pushahead would not see you 
struck for nothing.” 

“Do you think so ?” replied Cissy, with a faint smile. 

I am afraid they have not all such hearts as yours, 
Phyllis. But I have ” 

At that moment, a gentleman walking on the pavement 
raised his hat to Mrs. Bernard. He was in no wise a 
noticeable personage, and Phyllis would not have thought 
twice about the matter, had not Cissy blushed a deep 
crimson as she returned his salutation. Then her friend 
looked at him, and saw nothing but a tall man with fair 
hair and a fashionable appearance. 

“A friend of yours. Cissy?” she said, rather curiously. 

“Yes, that is, I know him a little,” replied Mrs. Ber- 
nard, with some confusion. 

“ What is his name, dear ?” 

“Captain Austin — Jack Austin, they call him. He 


126 


AT HEART A RAKE. 


knows the colonel — he knows all the men of his late 
regiment. He was telling me the other day.” 

In her desire to appear to know very little of Captain 
Austin, Cissy was making a dozen excuses where one 
would have sufficed, and thereby raised the suspicions of 
her companion. 

“ Why, Cissy, one would think I was the colonel himself 
by the nervous state I have put you in. It is very natural 
you should be acquainted with this captain, my dear. I 
suppose your husband does not forbid every man the 
house, does he ? ” 

“Oh, but indeed he does ! ” responded Cissy quickly. 
“ He always asks Jane, when he comes in of an evening, 
who has called and if I have left the house, and we are 
obliged to concoct such awful stories between us. That’s 
why he won’t let me go out alone — for fear I should 
speak to anybody out of doors.” 

“ And where do you see this Captain Austin, then ? ” 

“Oh, I don’t know ! We meet occasionally in the 
Park, orat Whiteley’s,” replied Cissy, stammering guiltily; 
“but very seldom, you know, Phyllis — quite by accident, 
of course — one cannot help running across people in 
town — particularly if they live near.” 

Lady Phyllis answered her quite in a maternal tone. 

“Cissy, dear, take my advice. Don’t ever make any 
appointments with gentlemen, or some day you will get 
into a scrape. Let them call to see you at home — there 
can be no harm in that — but once you are found out tb 
have made an assignation, it will be terrible work for you. 
You are too timid to bear the brunt of such a discovery — 
the colonel would have just cause for anything he might 
do — and you would be a greater prisoner than ever after- 
ward. Don’t forget what I say, there’s a dear child. 
Bring any of your men friends to my house, if you like, 
and talk to them there — but don’t meet them on your 
own account. And now good-by, for here we are at 
Moseley Gardens. Come and see me again very soon. 
Don’t wait for a formal call — come in whenever you like, 
and if I am out, sit down till I return, and treat me like a 
real friend, won’t you ? For I see you want a friend, my 
poor Cissy.” 


THE PUSHAHEAD CLUB. 


127 


She kissed her as she concluded, and Mrs. Bernard 
stood on the steps of her house, half crying and half 
laughing, and waving her hand in a childish manner, until 
the horses of Lady Phyllis Macnaughten’s carriage had 
turned the corner. 

As for Phyllis, she went home thinking very much of 
her little friend, and wondering what the members of 
such a club as the Pushahead could effect in such a case. 
Sympathy they would of course extend, but Cissy needed 
help as well as sympathy. It was not a case for stringent 
measures, perhaps, and it is a difficult thing to interfere 
between husband and wife; but Phyllis judged wisely in 
believing that, if more publicity were thrown upon such 
cowardly acts of cruelty, they would soon cease. 

There is nothing a coward dreads more than to have 
his cowardice made known. Alone with his hapless wife, 
in the privacy of home, without an auditor or witness. 
Colonel Bernard could bully and intimidate and strike 
his victim; but if some of her fellow-women made a point 
of invading that home in a polite way and gaining her 
confidence, and popping in at untoward hours, he might 
begin to fear lest he should be caught red-handed, or 
Cissy be found suffering from the effects of . a blow or 
nervous fright, and so, for his own sake, be induced to 
be more reasonable. If women only held by each other 
more. Lady Phyllis thought, they would suffer less, 
but they do not. They complain that men stand by 
each other — even to reticence regarding their mutual 
vices — why should not women do the same ? Even if 
they do wrong, why should not their own sex cover up 
their delinquencies ? It is only giving them the same 
chance as men take for themselves. And then she 
remembered the Pushahead Club, and felt a warm glow 
course through her veins, as she thought that here at 
least was an assembly of women who had bound them- 
selves, like the knights of old, to stand up for each 
other, through right and wrong. 


CHAPTER X. 


A CONJUGAL ARGUMENT. 

As Lady Phyllis entered her house, she walked 
straight up to her own room. She was engaged to a 
large dance that evening; her ball dress of eau de Nil 
brocade and chiffon was lying on the bed, ready for 
her to put on — Louise was in attendance to aid her in 
dressing. But she was tired, she averred, and it was 
late into the bargain. She would not dress till after 
dinner; they were not due at the dance till ten o’clock. 
So she walked downstairs in an ordinary costume, and 
entered the library. This room was supposed to be ded- 
icated to Mr. Macnaughten, since no one else ever used 
it. It was a long, narrow room, lined with old oak book- 
shelves. The windows were of stained glass, the floor 
was covered by a Persian carpet. In a large armchair 
sat Ronald Macnaughten, so absorbed in his book that 
he did not hear the entrance of his wife until Lady 
Phyllis was close to him. She leaned over the back of 
his chair, and kissed him lightly on the forehead. It 
was a kiss of affection or of duty — which you will — but 
there was no passion or sentiment in it. She would have 
been surprised if you had told her she. was cold; she 
would probably have refuted the accusation warmly, and 
replied that not half the wives in London kissed their 
husbands when they went out or returned from an 
excursion. Yet the truth remained that there was no 
flavor in the kiss, either to the giver or to the recipient. 

Macnaughten bestirred himself on its receipt, yawned, 
stretched, and asked: 

“ Has the first gong sounded yet?” 

“I don’t know,” replied Phyllis; “it may have. I 
have been in only a few minutes.” 


128 


A CON/ [/GAL ARGUMENT. 


129 


“ You are not dressed,” he said, deigning to look at her. 

‘‘No! I’m not going to dress this evening, till it is 
time to go.” 

“Go! Go where?” 

“To the Tauntons’. Have you forgotten this is the 
night for their ‘ Small and Early ’ ? ” 

“ Oh, bother it, yes ! Have we really to go through 
the treadmill again ? What a curse this London life is. 
I am half determined to cut it altogether. I think we 
should be much happier living in the country, on our 
little estate in Roxburgh.” 

“ You would, you mean, among the pheasants and par- 
tridges. I don’t think I should.” 

“Why, I thought you hated London life as much as 
Ido.” 

“I hate a life of monotony and idleness — a life where 
one’s brains have no opportunity of expansion, nor one’s 
intellect of food. But I don’t fancy that need would be 
supplied in Roxburgh.” 

“ Where can you supply it in London ?” demanded her 
husband. 

“I have not hitherto, I confess, but I think I have 
found a channel for culture and interest at last. Where 
do you think I have come from ? ” 

“ How can I guess. From anywhere your crazy fancy 
may have led you — Bedlam, perhaps, or the Leper 
Hospital ? ’’ 

“You give me credit for refined tastes, though I 
might have been worse employed than in making myself 
useful in either of the places you have mentioned. But 
you are mistaken — I have come from the Pushahead 
Club.” 

“ Where 2 ” cried Macnaughten, starting from his chair. 

“ Don’t knock over the table in your energy. From 
the Pushahead Club, of which I hope I shall soon be a 
member.” 

Never !” exclaimed her husband energetically. “I 
will not have it ! I utterly forbid it ! You shall do no 
such thing ! ” 

“Are you speaking to me?'* demanded Lady Phillis, 
drawing herself up to her full height. 


130 


AT HEART A RAKE. 


“Most undoubtedly I am, and I repeat that I will not 
let you become a member of that club. It is a disgrace- 
ful institution. It is composed of a lot of women who 
have made themselves notorious among men for their 
effrontery and outspokenness. They are people whom 
no one wants to know. I will not have my wife’s name 
written down among them.” 

“How utterly unjust you are!” retaliated Phyllis; 
“ like all men, directly their wishes are crossed in any 
way. You know nothing of what you are talking. The 
Pushahead Club, instead of being composed, as you 
affirm, of women whom no one else will know, numbers 
some of the brightest intellects and best-known names 
in London among its members — names which you 
should be proud to think you have a chance of becoming 
acquainted with, through my means. Lady Barton is the 
president, and that is in itself sufficient to guarantee the 
status of the ladies who belong to it.” 

“Stuff and vnonsense ! ” replied Macnaughten. “The 
president has nothing whatever to do with the members 
of a club, who are elected through the committee. And 
Dalgairns told me enough about the Pushahead the other 
evening. He said that Miss Noble is the ‘boss’ there. 
There’s a nice person for my wife to know! You’ll be a 
walking encyclopedia of the diseases of mankind next. 
Dalgairns told me, whatever I did, to keep you away from 
such a set, and by Jove! I will.” 

“You are reckoning without your host,” replied 
Phyllis, “for I am going to send in my name for election 
to-morrow.” 

“You mean to defy me, then ? ” 

“ Not at all ! but I mean to act on my own judgment 
in a matter that solely concerns myself. Surely you will 
admit that at the age of two-and-twenty I am compe- 
tent to decide on such a small matter. I never made 
any objection to your belonging to the Celestials, though, 
if I am not mistaken, it is considered one of the most 
sporting clubs in town.” 

“What has that to do with it?” said Macnaughten 
impatiently; “what does it signify whom / associate 
with ? I am a man ” 


A CONJUGAL ARGUMENT. 


131 

Merci ! ” said Lady Phyllis, with a little moue., ‘‘per- 
haps you consider me too childish even to be aware of 
that fact. But I interrupt you. Were you going to add 
that, being a man, you could not be made worse than you 
are by any associates ?” 

“ No, I was not ! I don’t suppose there’s a quieter 
fellow in town than I am, nor one who goes out less 
without his wife. But, with you it is a totally different 
thing. I will not have you hobnobbing with these New 
Women — imbibing all their new-fangled doctrines — learn- 
ing all they can tell you about men — matters much better 
left alone by your sex — and ending perhaps by despising 
your husband, and becoming too fine and intellectual to 
look after your baby.” 

“Oh, dear! you place a very small price upon intel- 
lect,” said Phyllis. “I wonder why, if the effects of culti- 
vating it are so pernicious, you sit day after day, stuffing 
your brains with fresh matter. How do you reconcile 
the apparent anomaly ? ” 

“By reminding you of the fact at which you seemed 
to take offense before; namely, that I am a man and you 
a woman; and that what may be innocuous in my case 
may prove dangerous in yours. Come, Phyllis ! you 
are not in earnest in this matter. Say you are having a 
joke at my expense — that you are not seriously contem- 
plating such a step.” 

“ I am, indeed. I paid a visit to the Pushahead Club 
this afternoon, and was delighted with what I saw. Lady 
Barton is charming — so were several others to whom she 
introduced me. They are a noble band of women — pre- 
pared to bear all the odium and abuse and ridicule that 
may be lavished on their undertaking, for the sake of the 
good it may entail on those of their sex who need the 
help and sympathy of their stronger sisters. They will 
justify their action to the world before long, and those 
who have always decried us for being the first to hound 
down our own sex in times of trouble will find they have 
been mistaken, and that wronged or suffering women will 
find both affection and assistance from the members of 
the Pushahead Club.” 

Ronald Macnaughten could not help laughing, vexed 
as he was. 


132 


AT HEART A RAKE. 


“My dear girl,” he commenced, “you are utterly 
mistaken. The members of the Pushahead instituted 
their club, not for the protection of their sex but the 
gratification of their vanity. They are mostly women 
who have no interests of a better kind in this world. If 
they have relations to love them, they are idle, incapable 
women without work to do. If, on the other hand, there 
are, as you assert, great minds among them, depend upon 
it these great minds have no home love — no husband, 
no little children — to fill up their hearts and occupy the 
remnant of their time.” 

“ But how does that concern me ? ” queried Lady 
Phyllis. “ Naturally, at present, I know nothing of their 
characters, but I know they encourage and uphold women 
in the enjoyment of all lawful occupations and amuse- 
ments; that their great aim is, to afford them the same 
choice of action as men, and which until now has been 
strenuously denied them; that they sympathize with 
them in following their own pursuits; that they consider 
they should have the same liberty as men ” 

“ And the same license ?” interrupted her husband. 

“Well, and why not?” asked Lady Phyllis. 

“I shall see you coming home in knickerbockers and 
a crush hat some day, ’’said Macnaughten, in a tone half 
of amusement, half of annoyance; but his wife took the 
remark seriously. 

“ I saw a young lady there this afternoon, who had just 
come in from cycling,” she observed; “and she wore 
knickers and stockings and looked exceedingly nice in 
them.” 

“Oh! it is disgusting, abominable — a disgrace to the 
country ! ” exclaimed Macnaughten, as he commenced 
to pace the room. “It should be put down by act of 
Parliament. I don’t know what men are thinking of to 
allow it, but, mark my words, Phyllis: if you go in for 
this sort of thing, it will part us.” 

She was about to say something angry in reply, when 
the butler fortunately saved the situation by throwing 
open the door and announcing dinner. The husband 
and wife had been so excited over their argument that 
they had not heard the second summons for dressing. 


A CONJUGAL ARGUMENT. 


133 


“ I’m a respectable figure to walk into the dining room,” 
said Macnaughten, as he paused before a mirror and 
passed his hand through his ruffled hair; “ but it’s all your 
fault. Mind, though; this subject is not finished. We 
will resume it after dinner. It must be settled once for 
all to-night.” 

The meal which succeeded was gloomy enough. 
Phyllis and Macnaughten sat opposite each other, with 
burning hearts and in almost total silence. Neither 
could eat, and the servants took dish after dish away 
untasted. Naturally, they perceived that “something 
was up ” between their employers, but the Macnaughtens 
had one saving quality — they never carried on an argu- 
ment or dispute in the presence of their domestics. 
They had too much respect for themselves. When the 
dessert was put on the table, Ronald said to Phyllis: 

“ How long will it take you to dress for this dance ? ” 

To which she replied. 

“ I am not sure that I am going to it.” 

“Just like a woman!” he replied lightly. “Never 
know your mind for two minutes together. And yet you 
imagine yourself capable of organizing an institution — 
doubtless of governing a kingdom.” 

“Why not, when we have a woman on the throne?” 
inquired Phyllis. 

“ Pooh I only a nonentity — a lay figure dressed up to 
represent a queen, simply because the stupid old law of 
succession in the direct line has not yet been abolished.” 

“A lay figure, nevertheless, who has ruled the king- 
dom more wisely, and redressed the wrongs of the people 
more ably, than any of her male progenitors have done,” 
retorted Phyllis. 

“ Well, I do not want to waste time over her Majesty’s 
virtues,” said Macnaughten, “but if you have quite 
finished your dinner, I should like to resume the discus- 
sion which Travers interrupted, and end it once for all.” 

“I am afraid you will find that a difficult matter, 
Ronald,” said Phyllis, as she followed her husband to the 
library and ensconced herself in an armchair. 

“You mean that you will not give in to my wishes — 
my orders ? ” he replied. 


134 


AT HEART A RAKE. 


“Most certainly not; particularly if you put them in 
that manner,” said his wife. “If I contemplated doing 
anything wrong, and you pointed out to me, as a friend, 
that it was wrong and convinced me of the justice of your 
assertion, I would give it up — but in a matter of mere 
choice, I do not recognize the expediency of taking your 
advice. To be a member of the Pushahead will interest 
and amuse me — at least I think so; should I find myself 
mistaken, I shall leave it again. But it is only fair that I 
should try the experiment, and I intend to do it.” 

“ Phyllis ! ” said her husband, looking her full in the 
face, “ I do not seem to know you.” 

“ Have you ever tried to know me ? ” she replied. “ In 
the days when we were engaged and so often together, 
with nothing to do but to learn each other’s hearts and 
minds, did you ever once endeavor to find out what were 
my views on different subjects — whether my bias was 
toward politics, or religion, or amusement; did you ever 
think at that time of anything besides my hair, or my 
features, or my figure, or the amount of affection I dis- 
played for you ? Now, answer me honestly, did you 2 ” 

“I’m afraid I didn’t. You see I loved you so.” 

“Bah, Ronald! don’t deceive yourself; you cannot 
deceive me. Love is founded on something far better 
than that. Anyway it was for these things that you 
married me, and, while they last, you have no right to 
complain. When I have grown old and ugly, you can 
have a separation from me. Now, what more do you 
want ? ” 

He was about to answer, but she went on. . 

“ Your own way! Exactly! but in this instance you 
can’t have it. I don’t think, lax as the laws of England 
with respect to women are, that there is one which forbids 
a married woman from associating freely with members 
of her own sex, be they banded together in a club or 
not. You will only hurt yourself by arguing the matter 
any further, and annoy me, for my mind is fully made up 
on the subject.” 

“Oh, Phyllis! Phyllis!” exclaimed Macnaughten, in 
a voice of pain, “ I thought you loved me.” 

“And so I do love you, you foolish fellow !” she 


A CONJUGAL ARGUMENT. 


135 


replied, but without attempting to approach him. That 
is the mistake you men make. You imagine that a 
woman is to be nothing but love, without any will or 
wishes of her own. What has your love for me (if there 
is any of it left) to do with your clubs, or races, or smok* 
ing concerts ? What a silly argument to use ! Are we 
totally different natures, because we do not belong to the 
same sex ? Sex has nothing whatever to do with tem- 
perament. I want my liberty as well as you.” 

“ But I have never denied you anything, Phyllis; you 
know that; and I have done my best to make you happy.” 

“ I know you have — m your way, but not in mine! And 
there is a great difference between the two. I can 
remember so well when we were honeymooning in 
Devonshire, and you went fishing in the Bay, how you 
insisted upon my accompanying you. You declared you 
could not live a few hours without me, and I was silly 
enough to believe you, and vain enough to be flattered by 
having made myself a necessity to you. So there I used 
to sit in the boat while you fished, nauseated to death, 
and terribly ennuyee with it all — yet you never perceived 
that I was either uncomfortable or bored. You had your 
fishing and me to talk to, and you were satisfied. You 
call that Love., and / call it unmitigated selfishness. 
That’s just the difference in our opinion.” 

Macnaughten looked thoughtful for a minute before 
replying : 

Perhaps you are right. Perhaps we men are selfish 
in our passionate love for you women. Your beauties 
were made to attract our eyes, and we follow the instincts 
of our nature in indulging them.” 

“ From what portion of Holy Writ do you draw your 
inference ? ” demanded Phyllis. ^^Who said we were made 
beautiful in order to attract men, since half the women 
in the world are hideous ? And if so, what were your 
beauties made for if not to attract usl And yet, if a 
woman ever follows the instincts of her nature, she is 
called bold and unwomanly. Bah ! you men have made 
all the laws of society for yourselves, and to suit your- 
selves, and have no authority for them but your own 
wishes.” 


136 


AT HEART A RAKE. 


‘‘But this has nothing to do with our discussion, 
Phyllis. The question is : are you determined to go 
against my wishes in this matter, and make one of that 
abominable Pushahead Club ?” 

“ I have already answered you — I am.” 

“A club where women so unsex themselves as to 
smoke and drink brandies and sodas, and dine out, and, 
for aught I know to the contrary, swear.” 

Lady Phyllis, recalling the incident of the lady cyclist, 
evaded the insinuation. 

“ And if they do, pray who taught them ? The married 
women among them, at least, must be very dull if they 
have not picked up every vice under the sun by this 
time.” 

“You are going to discuss the sorts of topics that 
are freely handled in ‘ The Revolt of the Harem ’ and 
‘ The Blue Orange,’ I suppose. You intend to assist at 
debates on the laws of Heredity, and the question of Sex, 
and all the other nasty topics which ladies are so fond of 
splitting straws on, nowadays.” 

“ Why not ?” said Lady Phyllis. “ If such things are^ 
it is time I knew of them as well as other people.” 

Macnaughten gave a half groan as he perceived her 
obstinacy. 

“Well, I told you before, and I warn you again, if you 
persevere in this unladylike intention of yours, it will, 
sooner or later, be the means of separating us.” 

“ Can we get a separation on so slight a cause ? ” asked 
Phyllis, with apparent eagerness. 

Her husband turned and regarded her reproachfully. 

“ Has it come to this, that you can jest on such a sub- 
ject, Phyllis?” 

Then she felt a little ashamed of herself, and attempted 
to turn it off as a joke. 

“ No, no, of course not ! I was only laughing, but 
you are so terribly grave over the matter ! I am sure, if 
we had been discussing the fate of the nation, you could 
not have been more horribly in earnest.” 

“This is a matter which affects me a great deal more 
than the fate of the nation would do, though you may not 
believe it,” replied her husband. “ It seems almost like 


A CONJUGAL ARGUMENT. 


137 


life and death to me ; but we have had enough of it for to- 
night, and will leave the decision to a future date. I con- 
fess it has made me feel good for nothing, and I am 
thankful you have given up the idea of going out this 
evening.” 

He passed his hand rather wearily over his brow as he 
spoke, and Lady Phyllis, thinking to make the amende 
honorable, rose from her seat and going to him essayed to 
kiss his forehead, but he put her away. 

^‘No, Phyllis! don’t kiss me. We may differ in 
opinion, we may obstinately cling each to our own — we 
may become separated in everything but monetary inter- 
ests ; but let us be honest with each other. Your kisses 
can mean nothing. Keep them for those who believe in 
them.” 

This was just the kind of speech to make Lady Phyllis 
too indignant for reply. She turned from her husband 
and swept out of the room in silence, and in another 
minute she was in her own apartment, sitting before the 
looking glass and having her wonderful coils of hair 
arranged in the latest fashion by the hands of the skillful 
Louise. 

An hour later Mr. Macnaughten thought he heard a 
carriage come up to the front door and drive away again ; 
and after a while, feeling curious on the matter, he rung 
the library bell. 

“ Who was it called just now, James ? ” 

‘^No one called, sir. It was the carriage going out 
with my lady.” 

“Has her ladyship gone already ?” 

“Yes, sir. To Mrs. Taunton’s, the order was. Did 
you want anything, sir ?” 

“ Yes. I will take my coffee here to-night.” 

He was too proud to let his servant see that his wife’s 
absence was unexpected by him, for he had fully thought 
from her previous remarks that she intended to stay at 
home for the evening ; but he felt her starting without 
him, all the same. This was the beginning of her inde- 
pendence ; the beginning — who could tell — of their 
future separation in all social pursuits. It was the first 


AT HEART A RAKE. 


138 

overt act of rebellion on Lady Phyllis’ part, and her 
husband read the message aright. Neither old nor new 
books seemed to have the power to distract his thoughts 
from the subject that worried him, and after an hour’s 
reverie over his pipe, he retired to bed and tried to lose 
sense of his troubles in sleep. 


CHAPTER XL 


THE FIRST LINK BROKEN. 

Lady Phyllis sent in her application to become a 
member of the Pushahead Club on the following day, and 
expected to wait a fortnight or more before she heard if 
she had been elected. 

To her gratified surprise, however, she received an 
answer almost by return of post — an answer from the com- 
mittee, conveying their satisfaction at her desire to join 
their forces, and asking her to accept the post left vacant 
by the death of Miss Moberley, the lion-slayer, and become 
their vice president. To have her vote and decision on 
matters of importance respecting the club would, they 
felt assured, greatly add to their weight and solidity. 

Lady Phyllis felt much flattered by this proposal, and 
as if she had acquired an added dignity. To assist in 
making the laws for such an institution, in altering and 
amending them by her protestation or advice, to rule 
over the society in fact, though only vice-regally, made 
her heart .flutter with the anticipation of unexpected 
greatness. She was very young, remember — only twenty- 
two — and she could not know that the members of the 
Pushahead Club wanted her name on their committee 
simply because she was a woman of birth and fashion, 
without a stain on her reputation; not even a name for 
crotchets and fads, like Lady Matthew Winterton; and 
that she had a certain influence in society, so that, where 
she led, others were pretty certain to follow. 

She wrote back almost gratefully, decidedly enthusi- 
astically, to accept the proposal made to her; and con- 
sequently, in a few days further, she received a formal 
notice of her election, with an intimation that she was 


139 


140 


AT HEART A RAKE. 


expected to take her seat as vice president on the occa- 
sion of the next committee meeting, which was to be held 
on a certain Thursday in the same month, at eleven o’clock 
in the morning. 

She did not say anything to her husband about her new 
honors. She thought she had made it perfectly plain to 
him, on the occasion of their discussing the subject, that 
her mind was made up and she intended to cast in her lot 
with the ladies of the Pushahead. 

The first unpleasantness that arose from this decision 
happened on the succeeding Thursday. It was her “At 
Home ” day as usual, and when her room was half full of 
people her bete noir^ Miss Vipan, was announced. Phyllis, 
who was talking to some gentlemen at the moment, Mr. 
Dalgairns being one of them, intended to dismiss the new- 
comer with a distant bow, but she did not know Miss 
Vipan. The little old maid, dressed just as she had been 
the time before, in a close straw bonnet and veil, looking 
as if she had stepped out of an almshouse into a drawing 
room, advanced to Lady Phyllis and extended her hand. 

“Well, my dear! ” she exclaimed, with offensive famil- 
iarity, “and so you are one of us ? Glad to hear it! I 
congratulate you.” 

Lady Phyllis drew herself up with dignity, while her 
friends stared at the audacious little person before them. 

“I do not understand you,” ejaculated Phyllis freez- 
ingly. 

“Why, aren’t you elected a member of our club? I 
have heard a rumor that you are to take the place of our 
late vice president ; but that is not common property yet. 
Didn’t I tell you we should see a great deal of each other 
in the future? You’ll find I’m generally right.” 

Lady Phyllis colored rosy red. She was not prepared 
to have her late innovation spoken of so openly, and she 
turned to the man who stood next her without deigning 
a reply to Miss Vipan’s speech. 

“ I think you were telling me. Lord Charteris, of the 
sad death of this poor diver. Why will people be so fool- 
hardy ? I think Government should make it penal for 
anyone to risk his life for the amusement of the crowd.” 

“Oh, you’re speaking of Sam Nowland, who killed him- 


THE FIRST LINK BROKEN. 14 1 

self diving from the Tower Bridge last night,” interrupted 
Miss Vipan. “Yes, it was a mad thing to do, wasn’t it ? 
I warned him more than once. I told him how it would 
end, but he wouldn’t listen to me.” 

“ You warned him ?” said Phyllis, forgetting her indig- 
nation in her surprise. “ Did you know him then? Was 
he a gentleman ? ” 

“A gentleman? Dear me, no! He was a fish por- 
ter, I believe, in Billingsgate. But I have seen him 
dive at the Alexandra Palace, and I foresaw the end. I 
can foresee the end of everybody when I’ve been in their 
company for ten minutes.” 

“Can you foresee your own end?” demanded Lord 
Percy Sefton, who was in attendance on his cousin as 
usual. He spoke in a childish, lisping voice, and his 
question appeared as innocent as himself. But it seemed 
to amuse the bystanders vastly, and it enraged Miss 
Vipan. 

“ I could tell yon yoursy truly enough,” she said, fixing 
the young man with her keen eyes ; “and it will not be 
a pleasant one, I can assure you.” 

“Oh, pray don’t tell us anything unpleasant!” ex- 
claimed Mr. Dalgairns, as he examined Miss Vipan 
through his eyeglass; “this world is quite troublesome 
enough as it is. Don’t make it worse to bear by predic- 
tions of evil.” 

“But how can you tell, you know?” persisted Lord 
Percy. “Are you a witch ? ” 

The little woman flashed her evil eyes upon him as she 
replied : 

“ I could tell you something that would settle you, 
young man, if you dared me to it. Your life will not be 
all roses, that is a certainty ; and you’re going the proper 
way now, if I am not mistaken, to land yourself in a bed 
of thorns.” 

“Well, I never knew that life was all roses,” retorted 
Lord Percy, and Lady Phyllis, saying, “I think we have 
had enough of this,” turned her attention wholly to Mr. 
Dalgairns. 

“What is this that evil-looking little lady has been say- 
ing about you?” he demanded, in a low voice. “Surely 


142 


AT HEAR A RAKE, 


she was not speaking of the Pushahead Club when she 
said that you had become ‘ one of us ’ ? ” 

Lady Phyllis looked slightly confused. 

“Yes, she was. Why not?” 

“It is not for me to say,” he answered ; “but I am 
sorry.” 

“ So all you men declare when you hear that women 
have made a stand against you. What harm can the 
Pushahead Club do you ? If you behave properly to the 
women under your care we shall have nothing to say 
against you, and if you do not, as you know in many 
instances is the case, it is only fair that our sex should 
have redress as well as yours.” 

“And do you really think,” said Dalgairns, with an 
amused smile, which incensed Lady Phyllis, “ that the 
members of the Pushahead will take any trouble, or incur 
any inconvenience, to defend or assist a woman who has 
fallen into difficulties ? Do you imagine that they will 
act differently from any other women when the oppor- 
tunity occurs to knock down social barriers and defy the 
world on behalf of their own sex.” 

“I am sure they will,” she answered hotly. “For 
what other reason have they banded themselves to- 
gether ? ” 

“To defy the laws of society, to break down all the 
barriers of reserve — I was going to say decency — to 
allow themselves the same license as men ; to make us 
out of love with women, in fact, and give us only cyclists, 
golfers, cricketers, and doctors for wives. We shall have 
to go to some uncivilized country for partners in another 
half century, for there will be none left for us here.” 

“I have no patience with you !” cried Phyllis, frown- 
ing. “You talk just like Ronald, as if women were 
idiots instead of reasonable creatures. Why, because 
some of us like open-air amusements and sports, should 
we all be the same ? Are all men cricketers or football 
players ? I have even known some who could sew with 
their needles, and enjoyed it. Why should we also not 
have a variety of tastes ? ” 

“But — but — I hardly know how to put it — there is a 
great mixture among the members of the club in ques- 


THE FIRST LINK BROKEN. 


143 


tion. Some of the ladies do not bear the best of reputa- 
tions. You must forgive me for mentioning it, but I do 
not think that Macnaughten would quite like you to be 
intimate with some there. I am a barrister, you know, 
and hold a good many family secrets — if they are 
secrets.” 

“You might say the same of any large assembly in 
London,” replied Lady Phyllis. “I am not sure that I 
could answer for everybody who comes to my house. 
But if there are wrongs to be righted there, I hope to 
have a hand in righting them. You may be sure I shall 
do my best, for I have been elected vice president of 
their committee.” 

Mr. Dalgairns looked as if he wished he had not 
spoken. His mouth dropped in a peculiar fashion, and 
he turned his head slightly away. In another moment 
he had said: 

“Forgive me! I did not know matters had gone so 
far. I trust you may do a deal of good among them,” 
and, turning on his heel, commenced to talk to another 
lady. 

Lady Phyllis felt a little disconcerted. Not that she 
believed all that men said about the Pushahead. Of 
course, they tried to run it down ; it was their mltier to 
do so; still such remarks made her feel uncomfortable, 
and the sensation was not bettered by the entrance of 
Lady Alexander Fox, with a curate in her train. 

This lady had truly, as Phyllis had heard, been concerned 
in one of the greatest scandals of modern times. Her 
name had been a byword for many months afterward, 
and she had never regained her place in society. So she 
had taken to what Macnaughten termed “the pious 
lay” — that is, in more eloquent language, she had 
affected to turn devote^ and went among the poor, and 
was heard of in connection with charitable concerts and 
prayer meetings. It was a clever way of throwing dust 
in the eyes which had not seen quite far enough. Many 
good-natured, unworldly people, who had not been of 
Lady Alexander’s former set, and who did not read the 
papers regularly, began to say that they felt sure she was 
an injured woman — that she could not be as bad as was 


144 


AT HEART A RAKE. 


said; else why should she spend her time in good works 
now ? Did not the Rev. Ebenezer Howler thank her 
from the public platform the other day for the liberal 
subscription she made to the Christmas dinner for his 
poor people, and did not the Rev. Moses Suckling call 
her “the sister of the destitute” in his sermon? It 
was quite impossible that she could have done any of the 
awful things that those horrid press men imputed to her. 
They must have been bribed to take away the poor dear’s 
character. And so Lady Alexander Fox, who had not 
been divorced only because Lord Alexander Fox should 
have been, wormed her way back into a certain sort of 
society — a half-and-half society, that considers a title 
on its visiting list covers a multitude of sins. She was 
to be seen at assemblies of the theatrical profession, at 
fancy balls, at parties given by rich merchants’ wives, 
and at the aforementioned charitable meetings; but never 
at a private dinner given in a well-known house, or at 
the “At Homes” of the aristocracy. She held her own 
in such places as the Pushahead Club, but to all first- 
rate society she was a pariah, and the world knew it. 

To have gained the acquaintance of Lady Phyllis 
Macnaughten, therefore, was a boon to Lady Alexander 
Fox, whose scandal had taken place so many years before 
that she hoped her new acquaintance might be too young 
to have heard of it. She was a ladylike woman in 
appearance and manners, with a very soft voice and 
expression ; she was a beauty, too, or had been consid- 
ered so when in society, and, to judge from the way in 
which he ogled her, the sucking parson by her side knew 
and appreciated the fact. But with all her bravery in 
defying the opinions of the world. Lady Phillis Mac- 
naughten would rather Lady Alexander had waited for 
an invitation before invading her drawing room. 

Of course she welcomed her — a lady is compelled to 
appear to welcome another in her own house^ — but her 
tone was timid and constrained. 

“Ah, my dear Lady Phyllis!” commenced Lady 
Alexander plaintively, “ I am sure you will forgive me 
for taking you so unceremoniously. I had no idea that 
Thursday was your reception day, and thought to find 


THE FIRST LINK BROKEN. 


145 


you alone. I am so anxious to introduce to you — may I 
say to make you a friend of ? — my friend the Rev. 
Onesimus Fowler.” Then, in an aside, which Onesimus 
was fully intended to overhear : Such a saint, dear 

Lady Phyllis ! — the best man God ever made, a second 
apostle ! ” Aloud : Mr. Fowler has been my friend and 
director and help in all things spiritual for some time past, 
so I felt assured you would not resent my presenting him 
to you. He is a great favorite also at our club, where, I 
trust, you will often meet him. By the way, I must con- 
gratulate you, and ourselves also, on the news which has 
just been circulated among us — that you are elected to 
be our new vice president. I am sure — we all are — that 
the choice of the committee could not have fallen upon a 
worthier object.” 

Lady Phyllis was trying to express her thanks suita- 
bly, when she was broken in upon by the voice of Miss 
Vipan. 

“Ah, Lady Alexander, how are you? And you, Mr. 
Fowler ? I see you’ve heard the great news — that this is 
our new vice president. I wouldn’t own to it as a cer- 
tainty just now, because I was not sure if Lady Phyllis 
had received the confirmation of her election ; but 1 
heard it all from Mrs. Smellwick. I suppose you’ve 
heard of Mrs. Smellwick ? ” she continued, turning to 
Phyllis. 

“ I do not think so. Who is she ? ” 

“Not heard of Mrs. Smellwick, of the firm of Smell- 
wick & Tanner, in Lombard Street ! Why, she’s the 
wife of the head of the firm; enormously rich, and one 
of the best dressed women in London. Isn’t she. Lady 
Alexander ? ” 

“ But what has she to do with the club ? ” demanded 
Lady Phyllis. 

“ Why, she’s one of our most influential members, and 
a very generous one into the bargain. She paid for all 
the bookshelves in the library and nearly half the books. 
I don’t know what the Pushahead would do without Mrs. 
Smellwick.” 

“But Smellwick & Tanner, they are jewelers, or some- 
thing of that sort, aren’t they ? ” said Lady Phyllis ear- 


146 


AT HEART A RAKE. 


nestly. I didn’t know they admitted tradesmen’s 
wives, and people like that, to the Pushahead.” 

‘‘Well, when they were organizing it, they were not 
able to be as particular as they would be now,” inter- 
posed Lady Alexander gently. “The Pushahead is not 
yet perfect, you know, dear Lady Phyllis ; but you will 
doubtless alter much of that. Your presence will draw 
a very different class of members to the club.” 

“You have more influential names than mine on your 
committee already,” said Phyllis. “Lady Matthew 
Winterton is well known for the interest she takes in 
matters pertaining to her own sex.” 

“Yes,” replied Lady Alexander, in a dubious tone, 
“ but Lady Matthew is a faddist; quite a curiosity in 
some ways. Very good and all that, but her husband. 
Lord Matthew, can’t live with her, you know, and I don’t 
wonder at it. She is always preaching on a tub, or break- 
fasting in the back slums of London, or shaking hands 
with the ladies of the pave., or some such extraordinary 
proceeding. Well-meaning, yes, very ! but sadly mis- 
taken. Not quite right here, you know ” — touching her 
own forehead ; “ everybody says so. Very peculiar, very!” 

“ But it is very good of her to go among such disrepu- 
table persons,” replied Lady Phyllis, glowing. “I 
should like her for it. It can be nothing but pure char- 
ity that instigates her actions. It must be so disagree- 
able to come into close contact with that sort of people ! ” 

“Ah, Lady Phyllis ! ” exclaimed the curate, who had 
hitherto refrained from putting in his oar, “if you want 
to know what real charity is, you should follow our 
friend here ” — with a touching glance at Lady Alexan- 
der — “ in her various deeds of mercy. You should hear 
her sing at our concerts, pray at our meetings, wait upon 
our poor with her own hands.” 

“Hush, Mr. Fowler! Pray, do not make my poor 
endeavors to lighten your heavy labors the subject of 
conversation. I trust that, now Lady Phyllis Mac- 
naughten and I are about to fight in the same cause, 
we may have many opportunities of discussing the best 
means by which to alleviate the sufferings of those less 
fortunately situated than ourselves.” 


THE FIRST LINK BROKEN. 147 

Phyllis was about to reply when her husband entered 
the room. Mr. Macnaughten so seldom appeared at his 
wife’s receptions that his entrance took her completely 
by surprise, and she was standing so near the door that 
it was impossible not to notice him. 

“ Ronald ! ” she exclaimed, as she caught sight of him, 
and thereupon Lady Alexander and Miss Vipan elevated 
their eyebrows, as though to inquire, “Who is this?” 
and she was obliged to introduce him to them. 

Macnaughten’s forehead gathered into the most 
ominous of frowns as the name of Lady Alexander Fox 
fell on his ear, but he was too much a gentleman to let 
his annoyance become apparent. He stood still for a 
minute, making the usual remarks about the weather, 
biting his lips the while and bowing with gravity, as 
Lady Phyllis mentioned each fresh name. Presently 
she said: 

“ It is quite a novelty to see you .grace my receptions, 
Ronald. Are we to take the compliment to ourselves ? ” 

He forced a smile as he answered: 

“Am I to tell a story, or to appear impolite ? If you 
must know the truth I have just come from Dalgairns’ 
chambers, and his man told me I should find him here. 
Have you seen him yet ? ” 

“ Oh, yes ! I have been talking to him for the last half 
hour. I think you will find him in the conservatory. I 
saw him pass through to it with Lord Charteris.” 

“Thanks. I have something of importance to say to 
him. Excuse me,” and, with another bow, Macnaughten 
left them. 

“So that is ^Mr. Macnaughten!” exclaimed Lady 
Alexander. “I congratulate you. Lady Phyllis. I have 
always heard that you married one of the handsomest 
men in town, but I have never had the pleasure of meet- 
ing him before. He is indeed very good looking.” 

“Do you think so?” replied Phyllis, gazing after 
Ronald as if he were a stranger; “I know I used to 
make a great fuss over him in my ‘green and sallet ’ 
days, but when one has been married four long years, 
you know” — with an expressive shrug of her shoulders. 

“One is apt to think one’s cousin, perhaps, better 


48 


AT HEART A RAKE, 


looking than one’s husband,” said Miss Vipan, in a 
would-be facetious tone. 

Lady Phyllis turned upon her quickly. “Are you 
speaking from your own experience ? ” she asked grandly. 

“ Hullo, Phyllis! do you think me better looking than 
Macnaughten ?” demanded Lord Percy Sefton, who was 
still dangling near. 

“Dear me, her cousin?” demanded Miss Vipan, 

determined to have her revenge. “I’m sure I didn’t 
know it, or I might have thought twice before I spoke.” 

Lady Phyllis deigned no answer, but walked away 
abruptly to join another group of friends. 

Meanwhile Macnaughten had sought the conservatory, 
where he found Mr. Dalgairns and Lord Charteris in 
earnest conversation. 

“We were just talking of you,” exclaimed the former; 
“where the dickens have you sprung from ? I should as 
soon have dreamed of meeting the elephant from the Zoo 
in your wife’s drawing room as yourself.” 

“I do not patronize her receptions as a rule, I con- 
fess,” replied Macnaughten; “they are too much made 
up of tea and twaddle to suit my taste. But I have just 
come from your chambers, Dalgairns; and as your man 
said you had come here, I followed you.” 

“Anything of importance ? ” asked Dalgairns. 

“Not particularly, but I wanted your advice on a 
matter which puzzles me. Nice lot here this afternoon, 
eh ? The rooms seem filled with old women and — and — 
unmentionables.” 

“Since you have alluded to the subject, Macnaughten, 
let me ask you, does Lady Phyllis know the true charac- 
ter of the person she was talking with just now ? ” 

“ You mean Lady Alexander Fox ? ” 

“ Exactly. You remember the affair. It took place 
ten years ago, but that makes no difference. She is not 
a fit associate for your wife. I was astonished to see her 
here. However did she gain access to your house ? ” 

“I have not yet ascertained, but it must be for the 
last time. Lady Phyllis is very young and unsophisti- 
cated, you know. She had never been in society before 
her marriage, and is very innocent in consequence. She 


THE FIRST LINK BROKEN. 


149 


has not sufficient nous to compete with the women of the 
present day, who seem to have no sense of decorum, and 
worm their way, by hook or by crook, into houses where 
they would never have been admitted a few years ago. 
I saw the person you allude to, and I made a note of it. 
There will be a row, but I can’t help that.” 

“ That is the misfortune of belonging to a mixed club 
like the Pushahead. You can hardly forbid your house 
to the members of it, and she is one.” 

‘‘Perhaps; but I have made up my mind that Lady 
Phyllis does not join the Pushahead. I know she wishes 
to do so, but her wishes must, in this case, succumb to 
mine. I intend to leave town rather earlier this season 
than usual, and I trust by next year she will have for- 
gotten all about such folly.” 

Dalgairns had been about to reply, but perceiving that 
Macnaughten knew nothing of what Lady Phyllis had said 
to him, wisely held his tongue. 

The afternoon waned, but Macnaughten had evidently 
no intention of waning with it, but kept his place in the 
conservatory, chatting with his friends, until the last cup 
of tea had been taken, the last farewell uttered, and even 
Lord Percy had torn himself away and quitted the room, 
now empty, save for the presence of the husband and wife. 

Lady Phyllis was evidently nervous. She felt that 
Macnaughten’s unusual presence betokened something 
more than a mere accident, and approached him, as he 
lounged on one of the benches in the conservatory, 
smoking a cigarette, with an air of timidity. 

“Ronald,” she commenced, “have you had any tea ? 
Will you take a cup before it goes downstairs ? It is 
quite fresh and hot.” 

“No, thanks; I never take tea after smoking, you 
know; besides I’ve been drinking liqueur. Tell James to 
go downstairs; I want to speak to you alone.” 

She dismissed the servant, without quitting her posi- 
tion, and as he disappeared with the last tea tray, she 
turned to her husband and said : 

“ Well, what is it ? ” 

“Did you know that that woman, Lady Alexander 
Fox, was coming here to-day ? ” 


AT HEART A RAKE. 


ISO 


I did not,” she answered truly. 

“She had the audacity to visit you without an invita- 
tion?” 

“Yes, if you can term a call from one lady to another 
by such a word.” 

“It is worse than audacity from such a woman as she 
is. You must stop it at once and forever, or you will 
lose every respectable acquaintance you possess. I saw 
old Mrs. Trendower looking at her the whole time you 
were in conversation. What made you talk with her in 
that familiar manner, as if you had known her for years ? 
You should have put her in her place at once, and shown 
her what a liberty she had taken in bombarding us in 
this manner.” 

“ I cannot be rude to a visitor in my own house. 
That may your idea of politeness, but it is not mine.” 

“A woman of that stamp does not merit politeness. 
However, the thing has to be done. I cannot allow her 
to visit you, and you must write and tell her so.” 

“ Oh, Ronald ! I cannot.” 

“ There is no alternative. If you do not, she will pre- 
sent herself here every Thursday. Lay the blame on me, 
if you like; but let her distinctly understand that I forbid 
the acquaintance. It is very awkward, I allow, but she 
has brought it on herself. She has no right to intrude on 
the notice of any decent woman.” 

“But it is impossible!" gasped Phyllis. “She is a 
member of the Pushahead, and I cannot shut my doors 
to any one of them. If Lady Alexander were not rec- 
ognized in society now. Lady Barton would not have 
put her on the committee of the club, surely.” 

“ Recognized ! Rubbish ! She is recognized by such 
half-and-half nobodies as think a great deal of a title, 
however stained and battered, but she is not fit company 
for you, and she never darkens these doors again.” 

“You said much the same of Lady Fearon, but she 
has been here since then and shall do so, as often as ever 
she chooses.” 

“You are determined to oppose me in such matters, 
Phyllis, I see,” replied Macnaughten sadly, “but you 
must draw the line somewhere. Lady Fearon (though 


THE FIRST LINK BROKEN. 15 1 

I don’t like her as a friend of yours) is a lamb of inno- 
cence, compared to Lady Alexander Fox. She ran away 
with her lover from her husband — that was bad enough ; 
still, Sir Richard married her, and society has in a 
measure condoned the offense. But this last is a woman 
whom no man would marry — who made herself notorious 
with so many that she was fit for none — and I utterly 
forbid you to know her. Now, let us have no argument 
on the matter. Once and for all, she does not enter 
these doors again. If you will not write and tell her so, 
I shall do so myself.” 

Lady Phyllis was infinitely distressed. 

‘^But it is impossible — impossible!” she reiterated; 
‘‘such an affront was never heard of before. I should 
never be able to enter the club again.” 

“All the better!” said Macnaughten. “I told you 
plainly the other evening what I thought about the 
Pushahead, and that you should never belong to it with 
my sanction. In fact, I don’t intend that you shall be- 
long to it ; therefore you will be under no necessity to 
receive any of the members.” 

“You speak too late,” said Phyllis, determined to 
brave the matter out. “I told you at the time you 
allude to that my mind was made up, and so it was. I 
received a proposal on the following day to become the 
vice president of the Pushahead, and I accepted the offer 
and was duly elected. So you see it is done, and cannot 
be undone ! ” 

Macnaughten flew into a passion at this news. 

“It can be undone, and it shall he cried, “if I go my- 
self to the club, and appeal against their ridiculous elec- 
tion. And if you don’t give in to my decision with a 
good grace, I will take you away to Roxburgh to-morrow, 
and keep you there till you have come to your senses.” 

This was the kind of argument that roused Lady Phyl- 
lis’ most determined opposition. This was the sort of 
tyranny that husbands exercised over their wives. It 
was never “will you” or “will you not”; but “/in- 
sist,” or “/ have determined.” Well, she was deter- 
mined also. She would not give in where she felt that 
she was right. 


152 


A'r HEART A RAKE. 


‘‘It is all “shall” and “will” with you men,” she 
said scornfully. “But you will find that women can make 
resolutions as well as yourselves. I will 7iot give up the 
vice presidentship of the Pushahead Club, and I will not 
insult Lady Alexander Fox. I will not be like other 
women, who are too cowardly to stick up for their own 
sex, who have gone wrong perhaps from an exercise on 
the part of men of the very tyranny which I resent in you 
at the present moment. And if you carry your brute 
force so far as to take me away from -London in the 
middle of the season, just because I choose to assert my 
freedom of action and will not submit to be treated like 
a baby, I shall appeal to my father against your treat- 
ment of me. It is shameful — disgraceful — iniquitous 
that a man should be allowed to make such a slave of his 
wife, and for no worse fault than claiming the right to 
exercise her own judgment in matters that concern only 
herself.” 

And Phyllis finished up her peroration by weeping 
quietly behind the shelter of her handkerchief. The 
sight of her tears mollified the rage of her husband. He 
had so seldom seen her weep, during their happy married 
life. 

“Don’t do that, please!” he said wearily. “You 
have no right to speak of my action in this matter as 
cruel or brutal. My only wish has been to save you 
from yourself and those who would take advantage of 
your ignorance. But you defy me. You say you will 
have your own way. You will make one of this band of 
women,, whom you know I detest — you will fill my house 
with disreputable characters and admit them to your 
friendship. And you say it is impossible to remedy it, 
and that you are determined it shall go on. Well, 
then, I will contend with you no longer. You shall not 
have it in your power to say that I have shown myself to 
be brutal like other husbands — you shall have your own 
way for the future. Only, you must not expect me to 
share it. You must forgive me if I decline to associate 
with people whom I dislike, or stay to see my house — 
the house which my mother graced for so many years 
and filled with gentlewomen as pure and unspotted as 


THE FIRST LINK BROKEN. 1 53 

herself — taken possession of by ladies whose acquaintance 
is a disgrace to us both. Henceforth, then, go your own 
way ; know your own people ; do as you choose — but 
do not expect me to be your companion. I shall not 
withdraw my protection from you. The house is wide 
enough for us both, but I shall prefer to live as much 
alone as possible while we are indoors, though, for 
decency’s sake, I shall still accompany you to places of 
public amusement. We must not make the world talk 
about us more than we can help. You understand me, 
do you not ? ” 

“Oh, yes ! I perfectly understand you.” 

“Very well then, I have nothing more to say. You 
will not be surprised if you miss me from your dinner 
and breakfast table. There is so little sympathy between 
us that my absence will doubtless be preferable to my 
company. And then I shall not be subject to hear 
where you have been or whom you have seen and thus be 
spared much annoyance.” 

“And so shall I,” said Lady Phyllis boldly. 

Macnaughten rose from his seat and approached the 
door. 

“ I suppose it will not be considered necessary in the 
future for us to give each other any intimation of leaving 
the house, but as this is the first evening and old habits 
are difficult to break, I may as well say that I am going 
out to dine with a friend and shall not be home till late. 
I will give Travers all necessary directions concerning 
my own comfort, so you need not trouble about me. 
Good-night.” 

And without glancing at his wife again, he left the 
room. She stood where he had left her, trying to per- 
suade herself that she had gained the victory and was 
very glad of it — at the same time a little confused and 
agitated as she tried to remember distinctly the terms 
of the new contract between Ronald and herself. She 
heard him mount the stairs to the nursery to kiss little 
Roy, before he left the house, and she heard him come 
down again, and hold a colloquy with Travers, the butler, 
and then a hansom was whistled for, and apparently 
Ronald got into it and drove away. After a while, hear- 


154 


AT HEART A RAKE. 


ing no sounds about the house, she crept from the draw- 
ing room, and encountered James upon the stairs on his 
way to light the lamps. 

‘‘Was that your master who drove away just now, 
James ? ” she inquired. 

“Yes, my lady. He won’t be home to dinner to- 
night, my lady. Will your ladyship please to want the 
carriage this evening ? ” 

“No, thank you, James.” 

My lady mounted the stairs very slowly after that, and 
entered her bedroom. She peeped into her husband’s 
dressing room, which was next to it. A housemaid was 
already busy there, making up the bed for the night. 
She courtesied as her mistress appeared. 

“ Mr. Travers said as the master would be late 
to-night, my lady, and wished this bed got ready 
for him, lest he should disturb you, my lady, if you 
please.” 

“ Oh, yes, Sarah ! it is all right.” 

A heavy tramping overhead betokened that Master 
Roy was enjoying himself by playing horses, or circus, 
or some other animated game with Susan, the nursemaid. 
Chairs were being dragged over the floor tied together 
with skipping ropes — loud halloos resounded through the 
apartment and lashings of whips, as Roy drove his gallant 
team over the nursery carpet. Lady Phyllis looked at 
her watch. It wanted half an hour of her dinner time. 
She rang the nursery bell. 

“Tell Susan to bring Master Roy down to me, Reyn- 
olds,” she said, as the nurse appeared in answer. “I 
wish to see him before dinner.” 

“Certainly my lady,” replied the servant; “but he’s 
having a fine romp. I don’t know how he’ll like being 
disturbed.” 

“ Nonsense ! ” said her ladyship rather crossly. 
“ Send him down at once ! ” 

Reynolds had certainly been right — there was evidently 
much persuasion on her part, and more remonstrance on 
that of Master Macnaughten, before he could be induced 
to break off acting Buffalo Bill and visit his mamma’s bed- 
room. When at last he appeared at the open door, it 


THE FIRST LINK BROKEN. 155 

was with a sulky thumb stuck in his* mouth, and a decidedly 
rebellious expression of countenance. 

‘‘Come here, Roy! I want you,” said Phyllis. “I 
haven’t seen my little boy all day.” 

“ Want to play,” replied Roy, holding back. 

“ Oh, fie ! Master Roy, go to your mamma directly, 
like a good boy,” said Reynolds. 

“ Aint a good boy 1 ” remonstrated the child. 

“No, I think you’re very naughty,” responded Phyllis 
tartly, “but you haven’t seen what mamma has in her 
dressing-table drawer, all the same.” 

The child rushed forward to get the jujubes which 
Phyllis kept for him there, and having received them, 
turned to his nurse and said: 

“Got ’em. Now, take me up to Susan again.” 

“ What am I to do, my lady ? ” asked Reynolds. 

“ Oh, take him away, I don’t want him. He’s like all 
his sex — he loves you only for what he can get out of 
you.” 

The old nurse laughed, as if her mistress had said 
a very funny thing, and beat a retreat with her little 
charge. 

And when they had disappeared Lady Phyllis did what 
was very natural for a woman to do, after so much excite- 
ment and annoyance — she laid her head down on the 
dressing table and burst into tears. 


CHAPTER XII. 


CAPTAIN Austin’s resolution. 

Captain John Austin’s regiment was quartered at 
Woolwich, which gave that gentleman the privilege of 
running up to town as often as he chose. He had been 
introduced to Mrs. Bernard at the house of one of the 
married officers of the colonel’s late corps ; had taken a 
fancy for her; had met her frequently since, at first by 
pure accident, afterward by mutual hints where they 
were likely to be found — latterly, by direct assignation. 
And yet, at the onset, these two young people had been 
quite guiltless of intentional wrong. They thought only 
of amusing themselves. I am aware this assertion will 
be met with much incredulity by the members of the 
beau sexe. Young women with leaden-colored lips and 
sandy hair — old young women with salt cellars and an 
artificial ‘ ‘ bun ” — old women with gray wigs and a stomach, 
will all cry out that it is impossible that a girl like Cissy 
could meet a young man by appointment time after time, 
and not know what was coming. Do they then speak 
from their own experience, or their knowledge of the 
world ? 

Probably they imagine that the work of the Divorce 
Court is furnished by romances as thrilling as any con- 
cocted by an imaginative author of seventeen. They 
think the heavy villain of the drama lies in wait for his 
victim months before he has ruined her; that he has 
made his crafty plans years before; that he dreams of 
evil, and swears she shall be his, until the fatal moment 
arrives. 

The heroine, also, sees the doom coming upon her in 
the distance, and struggles and prays against it, until 
she can struggle no longer and weakly falls into the trap 

156 


CAPTAIN AUSTINS RESOLUTION. 157 

laid for her, after which the verdict of that pure, ingenuous, 
and undefiled society which rules the world comes down 
upon her like an extinguisher; the Divorce Court sits 
upon her and condemns, and the world knows her no 
more. 

How surprised these good people — whom no wicked 
lover can ever possibly have taken the trouble to initiate 
in these mysteries — would be if they could analyze the 
real cause of half the divorce cases that take place; how 
different they would find them to be from their belief. 
The majority of men and women are pushed into the situa- 
tion, often sorely against their better judgment and 
their will. 

These cases always begin with unhappiness or neglect 
at home. They must begin with neglect, for if a husband 
looked properly after his wife, and made her his com- 
panion, such things could not possibly have the oppor- 
tunity to occur. The woman is left to her own devices 
then, or she is unhappy. As often as not her husband 
is unfaithful to her first, and she labors under a sense of 
injustice and an impotent desire for revenge. The laws 
of England, which accord so many more privileges to the 
man than the woman, are responsible for much of the 
business of the Divorce Court, and increase the crimes 
they were passed to prevent. An unhappy or dis- 
appointed woman soon finds sympathizers among the 
other sex, especially if she be pretty or interesting, and 
you will generally find that divorcees are pretty or 
interesting. 

The ladies who rail against them are generally such as 
any man might leave with perfect impunity for a seven 
years’ separation with the certainty of finding them just 
as he left them on his return. These are mostly women’s 
women — that is, the favorites and confidantes of their own 
sex, and have much to thank God for, in that they are so 
little molested or subjected to temptation. 

‘ But the other sort, the men’s women, have a harder 
battle to fight. Men court their society; they appear at 
their houses as often as they possibly can; they offer 
them flowers and books and theater tickets, and such like 
tokens of their good intentions. The woman, perhaps. 


AT HEART A RAKE. 


158 

prefers one of them to his fellows, she makes a friend of 
him, they interchange confidences, and after a while the 
history of her little trouble comes out. Sympathy is a 
very dangerous thing between a man and a woman under 
thirty; nevertheless, this particular pair has no thought 
of doing wrong; she never dreams of such a thing, and 
it has only flashed across his mind at intervals, when one 
day 

‘ ‘ Alas ! how easily things go wrong ! 

A sigh too much, or a kiss too long — 

And there follows a mist and a weeping rain, 

And life is never the same again ! ” 

The denouement in these cases generally comes unexpect- 
edly — as a shock, a surprise, a revelation — something 
to be looked back upon with shame and horror, and 
then the tears are dried, the forgiveness extended, the 
agitation calmed — they are friends again and — they walk 
eventually into the Divorce Court together. And why ? 
Because sympathy and friendship and affection are so 
rarely accorded to woman by her own sex. She has 
to go further afield for them, and the flowery paths are 
dangerous for the unhappy and the neglected to traverse. 

Very few men and women are designedly wicked in 
this world, but many are undesignedly thoughtless of 
consequences. And so might the young lady with the 
leaden-colored lips, the old-young lady with the salt 
cellars, and the old lady with the stomach have all been 
— had anyone asked them to walk that way. 

Jack Austin was as good and honorable as most young 
men, and with a very kind heart. But that he had any 
particular designs upon Cissy’s virtue is untrue. He was 
sitting at breakfast in his Woolwich quarters one morn- 
ing about this time, in company with two brother officers, 
when the topic was introduced, and his words spoke for 
themselves. His soldier servant had just brought in the 
London letters, and seeing a pink envelope inscribed 
with Cissy’s school-girlish writing. Jack Austin quietly 
put it on one side, intending to keep it for future perusal. 
But it did not escape the lynx eyes of Barrington, one of 
his companions. 


CAPTAIN A CIS TINS RESOLUTION. 


159 


Hullo, Jack!” he exclaimed; “who’s your friend? 
Out with it, man ! I saw the handwriting, so no shuffling ! ” 

“There is no need to shuffle, Tom,” replied Austin, 
“ though, if I intended to keep my friend’s name to 
myself, none of your bullying would get it out of me. 
But, as it happens, this is quite square and aboveboard. 
Aren’t you disappointed ?” 

“He thought he’d caught you at last,” remarked 
Quinton, Austin’s other chum. “Barrington’s never 
happy unless he’s grubbing up a mare’s nest about some 
woman or other.” 

“Well, if it’s all square, why can’t we hear who she 
is?” said Barrington. “I’ve seen that writing and that 
pink paper more than once before on your table, Austin ! 
Who is it from ?” 

“It’s like your d impudence to ask,” replied 

Austin, smiling, “but I will gratify your curiosity for 
this once. The letter is from Mrs. Bernard — old 
Bernard’s wife.” 

“A married woman ! ” cried Barrington, “and he calls 
it all square and aboveboard ! ” 

“So it is,” said Jack rather indignantly; “and to prove 
my words I’ll open this letter and read it aloud, though 
I’ve not the least idea what it may contain.” 

Suiting the action to the word. Captain Austin tore 
open Cissy’s note and read as follows : 

“Dear Captain Austin: 

“ I can’t go to the concert, thank you, as it would be 
too early for me to leave home — my husband does not go 
to his club till two — but I am going to Whiteley’s 
to-morrow afternoon, shopping, so, if you are our way, 
perhaps we may meet there. 

“Cissy.” 

“Well, I don’t think you can make much out of that ! ” 
said Austin, as he replaced the little pink sheet in its 
envelope. 

“Ah ! we haven’t got the key by which to interpret it,” 
said Barrington, laughing. “ It may be written in cipher 
for all we know.” 


i 6 o at heart a rake. 

“No, indeed; honor bright, boys ! You know as much 
as I do. The fact is, I feel heartily sorry for this poor 
little girl. That beast, Bernard, is leading her a dog’s 
life. She dare hardly say her soul’s her own, and is kept 
a perfect prisoner in the house while he goes swaggering 
about his club and his houses of call.” 

“ I’d pity any woman in the clutches of that old brute 
Bernard. How they did hate him in the Martineers ! 
There’s hardly a man of them will take him by the hand 
now.” 

“ I should think not ! Why, he had to sell out, or he 
would have been turned out after that affair with Major 
Blacklock’s wife. A nice sort of an ‘ officer and a gentle- 
man’ to go sneaking after his brother officers’ wives! 
He should have been drummed out of the regiment and 
then shot ! ” said Quinton. 

“ What sort of a woman is his wife, Austin ? ” 

“Oh, a poor little frightened creature about twenty, 
quite a child. He bullies her morning, noon, and night. 
She never has any pleasure, and so sometimes I have 
taken her to an afternoon ‘ show.’ But it is rather risky, 
you know, for we might meet the old brute at any turn, 
and he’d never believe we were only friends and nothing 
more ! ” 

“ Rather not ! ” said Quinton seriously. “ I say, Austin, 
old chap, it would be a sell for you if you found your- 
self saddled with a woman you didn’t want. Be careful, 
old fellow! Don’t be led away by sympathy and pity, 
and all that rot, to make a fool of yourself. It would 
mean selling out, you know. You could never bring her 
here.” 

“My dear boy, what are you driving at? Do you 
think I’m a ‘ Lutherian ’ ? Why, I wouldn’t harm a hair 
of the little woman’s head. She looks like a school-girl, 
and is not much more companionable. The silliest little 
duffer you ever came across. But it is a shame, by 
Jove ! to treat her as he does. He never takes her any- 
where, unless I send her a couple of theater tickets, and 
then, for his own sake, he will go too. But she leads the 
dullest life you can imagine, while he goes on just as he 
did when a bachelor. I’m always thinking of something 


CAPTAIN AC/ST/NS RESOLUTION. i6i 

to amuse her. That is the meaning of this note. I 
asked her if she could go to the Philharmonic with me on 
Friday, and I’m sure that’s innocent enough.” 

“ Oh, yes, my boy, but it’s where it leads — it’s where it 
leads,” said Barrington. 

“ Well, this won’t lead anywhere but into a cab to take 
her home again, so you need not disturb yourself about 
my precious morals, Tom. I don’t profess to be better 
than my neighbors, but I never deliberately seduced 
another man’s wife yet, and I don’t mean to try.” 

“But she might ?>ed\ic&you!” argued the practical 
Quinton. “ It’s generally the woman’s fault in these cases. 
Jack. We should keep straight enough if they’d let us.” 

“You need not have any fears on that account either, 
Quinton. Mrs. Bernard is not at all that sort of woman. 
She is a child, in utter dread of her master, and yet just 
daring enough to run and skip and play when his back is 
turned. If you saw her, with her curly little head and 
her shy dark eyes, and her childish way of talking, you 
would soon change your opinion.” 

“ Why, these innocent creatures who don’t know 
right from wrong, and do the most outrageous things 
from sheer ignorance, are the very ones to lead a man 
into a scrape ! ” exclaimed Tom Barrington. “ My dear 
fellow, do be careful of what you’re about, for goodness’ 
sake ! or you will be landed in the Divorce Court before 
you know where you are.” 

Captain Austin indignantly refuted his friend’s sug- 
gestions. Mrs. Bernard was no more to him than a 
friend ; he had not gone about with her more than most 
men did with most women ; had taken tea with her once 
or twice at a ladies’ club, where a hundred pairs of eyes 
were on them all the while ; had taken her out to one or 
two luncheons at the Holborn, had been with her to a 
few matinSes ; what were these but the ordinary atten- 
tions paid by men in society to the wives or sisters of 
their friends ? If Colonel Bernard heard of them, he was 
heartily welcome to do so, he could prove nothing 
against him, bluster as he might, for the very good 
reason that there was nothing to prove. But though he 
so emphatically denied the least intention of wrong 


162 


AT HEART A RAKE. 


toward Cissy Bernard, the cautions of his chum made 
Captain Austin think more seriously of his intimacy 
with her than he had ever done before. Sometimes 
the very mentioning of such things in public will fan 
the smoldering embers into a flame. Feelings may lie 
hidden and unrecognized for a long time, in the depths 
of our own hearts, but when they are rudely stirred up 
and analyzed or commented upon, we find, to our amaze- 
ment, that they are quite different from what we had 
imagined them to be. 

Jack Austin sat thoughtfully in his chair, for some 
time after his friends had quitted the breakfast table, 
asking himself if it really could be true that he felt more 
for Cissy Bernard than he had believed to be the case. 
And did she care for him ? He kept on recalling certain 
little incidents, looks, and expressions which she had 
used, which seemed to throw an entirely new light upon 
their intercourse, and made him fear lest he should have 
let their friendship go too far, and made himself neces- 
sary to her. If that were so, it must be put a stop to, at 
whatever cost to both of them. He could not answer 
her letter, as she was never sure of the colonel not 
getting hold of her correspondence and opening it sans 
chimonie. So hers usually contained the news where he 
could find her, and he was his own letter carrier. To- 
morrow at Whiteley’s. Yes, he must go to Whiteley’s, he 
decided ; and take the poor little woman to some quiet 
place and break to her the news that they must be more 
cautious about meeting in future. Jack Austin twirled 
his mustache a good deal as he was coming to this resolu- 
tion. He did not like the thought of telling Cissy she 
must relinquish her sole amusement, at all ; he did not 
like the idea of relinquishing it himself. He had become 
used to seeing her on his frequent journeys to town, he 
liked to watch the look of gratitude with which she 
received his proposal to take her to some place of amuse- 
ment ; to think that he infused pleasure, though for- 
bidden (but are not forbidden pleasures always the 
sweetest), into her colorless life. And it had all been so 
innocent hitherto ; why could people not leave them alone 
to enjoy themselves as best they might ? 


CAPTAIN- AUSTIN'S RESOLUTION. 163 

He began questioning himself ; a thing he had never 
dreanied of doing before ; if, supposing what Barrington 
had hinted at came to pass, and his intimacy with Mrs. 
Bernard led him into a scrape, he should be prepared — 
not to marry her; that he should do of course, no man of 
honor could do less — but to live happily as her husband. 
The answer was ‘‘yes.” The idea was a new one ; it 
inflamed his fancy, he did not stop to consider anything 
but the prospect of possessing her ; in fact, he behaved as 
most men do when they desire a woman, either as wife 
or mistress, and never took the question of her suit- 
ability in mind or feeling into consideration at all. All 
the same he saw what an insane thing it would be for 
him to do ; it would be the end of his military career, 
of his family friendships, and of their mutual social 
standing. Of course, it -was ridiculous to think of it. 
It would ruin his prospects, break his mother’s heart — 
and be a sore injustice to the little woman herself. She 
was quite old enough to understand his motives, and 
clever enough to see the reason of them ; so he should 
go and meet her at Whiteley’s, broach the ma^tter as 
gently as possible, point out to her the rashness of which 
they had been guilty, and persuade her to give him his cong/. 

Accordingly, Captain Austin was lingering outside 
Whiteley’s establishment on the following afternoon, 
and about four o’clock saw Cissy Bernard tripping up the 
Grove, looking like a dainty flower in her summer 
draperies. But when she drew nearer and they had 
exchanged greetings, Austin observed that she was paler 
than usual, and her eyes showed traces of recent tears. 
Her manner also was fluttered and agitated, and the way 
she slipped her little hand through his arm showed that 
she clung to him for succor and protection. 

. He looked at her for a minute and then said : 

“Is anything more than usual the matter, Mrs. 
Bernard ? ” 

Everything is the matter,” replied Cissy, in a manner 
that made him think the colonel had discovered their 
intimacy. He gave a low whistle, as he remarked : 

“ Now, look here ; do you really want to shop at 
Whiteley’s, or was it merely a rendezvous ?” 


164 


AT HEART A RAHE. 


Of course it was. I thought it the safest place that 
we could meet at.” 

^‘Then I shall take you to Verey’s instead. There, we 
can have an inner room and talk in peace. I see you 
have something of importance to tell me, and Whiteley’s 
is no place for privacy.” 

He hailed a passing hansom, and putting Cis^y into it, 
directed the driver to take them to Verey’s in Regent 
Street. 

The drivers of hansoms must know about as much of 
the goings-on of ladies and gentlemen in London as any- 
body. The number of pairs of engaged, or friendly, or 
promiscuous couples they take to Simpson’s or Verey’s, 
or the Criterion or the Holborn, in the course of a day, 
must be problematical. No need for them to try and 
guess if their fares be respectable married people, or not. 
The lover flings them his small change recklessly, that he 
may get his fair charge under shelter as soon as possible ; 
the husband counts out his, with a beautiful indifference 
as to whether madame stands waiting on the pavement 
for one minute or ten. 

Captain Austin did not keep his cabby over an argu- 
ment concerning his fare, but dismissed him in so lordly 
a manner as to make him observe, as he drove away, that 
“ ’e was a real gennelman, ’e was.” 

Cissy and her friend, seated on a sofa in the inner 
room at Verey’s, provided with cups of chocolate and 
cakes, were free to talk to each other in peace. 

“And now,” he said, as he turned to her, “tell me all 
about it. Has he found out that we meet each other 
sometimes ?” 

“Oh, I hope not!” cried Cissy, with wide-opened, 
questioning eyes ; “if he once does that, all my pleasure 
in life will be gone.” 

Jack squeezed her little hand under the table, as he 
proceeded : 

“ Then what can it be ? I am sure there has been 
a row. I can see you have been crying, by your 
eyes.” 

“ The most horrible thing has happened that you ever 
heard of,” commenced Cissy solemnly. “He has killed 


CAP TAW AUSTIN'S RESOLUTION. 165 

my poor cat. He hung her in the back yard,” and her 
eyes filled with tears again at the recollection. 

“ What a beast he is ! ” exclaimed Austin emphatically. 
“ He seems to have no feeling for anything or anybody. 
What on earth had the poor brute done ? And it was a 
pet of yours, too ? ” 

‘‘Yes, it was the only thing I had to care for and 
look after. Oh ! it was done to spite me, there’s no 
doubt of that. The fact is, he has found out that I 
belong to the Pushahead Club. I can’t imagine who told 
him, unless it was that horrid Miss Vipan. I trembled 
when I heard him say he had met her at the Nettlefolds’ 
last week, though how she came to know them, I cannot 
imagine. But she is ubiquitous. You see her every- 
where.” 

“ Do you mean that faded, shriveled-up little woman 
with a peculiar style of dress, who spoke to you once at 
the club when I was taking tea there ? I remember her 
perfectly ; but if she told the colonel of your belonging 
to the club, she may have mentioned my presence there, 
also.” And Jack Austin experienced a strange feeling, 
half of fear and half of anticipation, at the probability. 

“Oh, no! I should have been sure to hear it if she 
had. But I have been trembling ever since. What 
should I do, if I lost you for a friend ? You are the only 
friend I have,” she said, with a plaintive smile, “except 
Lady Phyllis Macnaughten.” 

Jack squeezed her hand again, in token of his fidelity. 

“You shall not lose me, Cissy — I may call you ‘ Cissy,’ 
mayn’t I ? ” 

“ Oh, yes, do ! I love it,” interpolated Cissy. 

“ You shall never lose me so long as it is your wish to 
keep me ; not for a thousand colonels. We are not doing 
any harm ; why should we have any fear ? 

“ But if he found it out, he would never, never let me 
see you again.” 

“ Oh, we would find some way to circumvent him, never 
fear I If he is so cruel to you, you should consult a 
solicitor on the subject. Perhaps you could get a separa- 
tion from him ; then I should be able to come and see you 
every day. Wouldn’t that be nice ? ” 


i66 


AT HEART A RAKE. 


But Mrs Bernard shook her head. 

“I should never dare try fora separation,” she said; 
“for if I didn’t get it, he would kill me. Besides, fancy 
going to a lawyer all by myself ! I shouldn’t know what 
to say to him, and perhaps he would repeat it to the 
colonel. Oh, I shouldn’t dare ! ” 

Captain Austin shrugged his shoulders with a pitying 
smile. This fragility and helplessness appealed strongly 
to his manly nature, but it was sorry stuff to fight the 
battles of the world with. 

“But tell me about this trouble,” he continued 
presently. “How came he to be so cruel to the poor 
unoffending cat ? ” 

“Well, the beginning was that someone told him 
yesterday that they had met me at the Pushahead, and 
that I was a member of the clnb. He came home to 
dinner furious, and accused me of it. Jack — may I call 
you ‘ Jack ’ too ? ” 

“ Of course you may, dear ! I should be very sorry if 
you called me anything else.” 

Jack ! ” said Cissy caressingly, smoothing the 
cuff of his coat with her hand. “He took me so much 
by surprise that, at first, I really didn’t know what to 
answer ; but he insisted on a reply, so I said it was 
true. I couldn’t think of anything else to say at the 
moment.” 

“It would have been no use if you had. He would 
have been sure to find out it was a fib afterward, and 
been all the more angry with you. Honesty is always the 
best policy. Cissy. And what then ? ” 

“ He swore frightfully, and stormed about the room, 
and declared that I had deceived him, and I should never 
leave the house again, and he would have me locked up 
for a madwoman, and all that sort of thing, you know; but 
he never asked me who paid the entrance fees for me. I 
suppose he forgot it for the time being.” 

Jack Austin looked alarmed. “ Mind you don’t let out 
that / did it,” he said earnestly. “I say it iovyour sake, 
darling ; but swear to anything but that. It would look 
so bad, though you and I know there was no harm in one 
friend helping another in such a case. But you had better 


CAPTAIN AUSTINS RESOLUTION. 167 

say you found the money lying about, or took it out of 
his trousers pocket, than say it was I.” 

Mrs. Bernard smiled in her cunning little way, while 
her eyes twinkled. 

“ Trust Jack,” she answered; “ I will never do that, 
if he tears me limb from limb. He very nearly did. We 
had a most miserable evening, but I was very obstinate 
and would tell him nothing, excepting that I had a right 
to belong to the club if I liked, and I had done no wrong. 
He is rather afraid of making too much noise now, you 
know. Jack, because he doesn’t want Jane, the housemaid, 
to hear him. Jane is quite a friend of mine, and the 
other night, when he struck me, I went upstairs and slept 
with her.” 

At this announcement. Captain Austin's face expressed 
the horror which he felt. 

Struck you ! Do you mean to tell me that he actually 
struck you a blow ? That big brute, and a weak, delicate 
little creature like you ! Cissy, you are not in earnest ! 
He never dared to strike you ? ” 

‘‘Indeed he did, then. He boxed me on the ears till 
my head swam ; but Jane heard it, and it frightened him. 
He is an awful coward, you know. He is quite afraid of 
Jane now, I think. So, after he had been rowing me, I 
went up to her room again to sleep with her, for I am 
really afraid of him, you know. Jack,” continued Cissy, 
with big appealing eyes, moist with unshed tears ; “but 
he came upstairs and kicked the door in with his foot, 
and pulled me out of bed and took me downstairs again. 
And Jane called him all the names she could think of, 
and said she would summons him for breaking into her 
bedroom when the door was locked, and oh, there was 
such a row ! ” 

“ My poor little girl ! It makes my blood boil to 
think of you left to the tender mercies of such a brute.” 

“But I wouldn’t get into bed,” said Cissy, shaking her 
curly head, “and Jane stayed outside the bedroom door 
all night, so that he dared not strike me again. And I 
sat on the sofa till morning, while he snored comfortably ; 
and then he was obliged to open the door and let me 
free.” 


i68 


AT HEART A RAKE. 


“ But how about the cat ? ” 

‘^Oh, lam coming to that! At breakfast he began 
again about the club, and it suddenly struck him to ask 
where I got the fees, so I said I had saved it from my 
housekeeping money, which you know was a dreadful 
fib, but what could I say ? It could hardly have been 
worse, though, if I had told him the truth. He declared 
that was the reason then that he had such bad dinners. 
I spent his money on my own debaucheries — yes,' that 
was the word he used. Jack, debaucheries — and gave him 
cat’s meat to eat, while I ran about town and neglected 
my duty, which is to spend all he gives me on house- 
keeping, and stay at home to see the meat is properly 
prepared. Just at that moment, my poor little pussy 
came up and rubbed herself against his leg, and — and ” — 
Cissy could hardly get out this part of her narration 
without bursting into tears — “he kicked the poor thing 
right out of the room and down the stairs, and when I 
called out that he was cruel, and the cat had done no 
wrong, he ran down into the lobby for a piece of rope, 
and he — he — hung my — my poor little kitty up to the 
clothes line in the back garden. And — ^and,” added 
Cissy convulsively, while she bit her lips hard to prevent 
her tears flowing, “I — I, loved her so ! ” 

Jack Austin was so indignant he could hardly speak. 
Had he done as his inclination prompted him, he would 
have asked the girl beside him to cut at once and forever 
the chains that bound her to such a cowardly ruffian, and 
trust the rest of her life to him. And had he done so. 
Cissy would doubtless have consented, for she was very 
young and imprudent ; she was also very much disap- 
pointed with life as she had found it, and in search of 
excitement ; but Austin’s better feelings prevailed. 
The cautions of his chums also were, still ringing in his 
ears, and he stamped upon the feeling which would have 
made him gratify his desire to protect Cissy from bru- 
tality at the expense of her fair fame ; so he stooped 
down to her side instead, and whispered : 

“ Dear Cissy, don’t cry 1 Try not to think of it any 
more. Can’t I fill up the void left by poor pussy’s 
death ? You have me still, you know, and I am ready to 


CAPTAIN AUSTIN'S RESOLUTION. 169 

take all the petting you will give me ; and I don’t think 
the colonel will find it an easy matter to hang nie^ what- 
ever I may be guilty of.” 

Cissy peeped from beneath her long wet lashes and 
smiled. It was good to hear him speak in this strain, as if 
he really belonged to her, and would be her friend to her 
life’s end. She did more than look at him, she slipped 
her hand in his again, and murmured : 

“ Oh, you don’t know what a comfort you are to me.” 

“And now, ’’said Austin, when she was more composed, 
“ cannot we think of some means by which we can circum- 
vent this old bully. Cissy ? I’m not going to have you 
kept in the house, without amusements or friends, to 
gratify his spite, while he goes about on his own account. 
Does he never spend an evening from home ?” 

“Very seldom — but, stay, he has an engagement next 
week to go down to Portsmouth and see some of his old 
friends. Wednesday, he said he should go there, and 
return on Thursday evening. We will have a jolly long 
walk together. Jack, on Wednesday afternoon, if you 
have no other engagement ; won’t we ?” 

“Both afternoon and evening,” replied Austin ; “ we’ll 
make a day of it. Cissy. It’s not often we get such an 
opportunity. Let me see. The programme shall be 
like this: A drive into the country in the afternoon — 
dinner at the Cri; a theater in the evening — supper at 
Simpson’s afterward, and so back to your prison in 
Moseley Gardens. Will that suit, eh ? ” Cissy’s eyes 
sparkled with anticipated pleasure — her little frame was 
trembling with excitement ; her hands were clasped 
nervously. 

“Oh, oh!” she gasped, “won’t it be delightful! I 
shall count the minutes till Wednesday. But suppose 
he shouldn’t go. What a terrible disappointment ! It 
would kill me. Oh, Jack, Jack! you have made me so 
happy.” 

She was like a child who sees a Twelfth Cake displayed 
to view, or its first Pantomime — or any other creature 
who is almost too excited to speak. She betrayed so 
unreservedly the dull, unnatural life she had been lead- 
ing since her marriage that Austin longed to kiss away 


170 


AT HEART A RAKE. 


the tears that still stood trembling, like dewdrops on a 
roseleaf, on her pretty cheeks. But with an effort he 
restrained himself, and telling her playfully not to be 
a little goose and they would have plenty such days 
before they had done with them, he conveyed her back 
to the house, which was, by courtesy, termed her home. 


CHAPTER XIII. 


THE ladies’ committee. 

The Committee Room at the Pushahead Club was a 
very handsome apartment It was long and lofty, and 
lighted by a sky-light The table was of oak, covered 
with stamped leather, and the chairs to match were 
upholstered in green morocco. There was an air of 
solidity and massiveness about the arrangements of the 
room which seemed to spell business. At the head of 
the table were two armchairs for the president and 
vice president ; at the foot was the secretary’s desk. 

The chairs for the ladies of the committee were ranged 
around the table, on which was an ample supply of pens, 
ink, and paper. 

On the walls of the apartment, which were tinted a dull 
cream, hung some half dozen oil paintings, representing 
subjects of history, and an oaken bookshelf at the further 
end of the room contained books of reference on legal 
and other questions likely to be required by the impor- 
tant assembly. In this room the ladies of the committee 
met once a month, to decide the weighty matters con- 
nected with the club — to carry or reject the motions 
which were laid upon the table — to decide by ballot the 
applications sent in for membership — to examine into the 
monthly expenses, and to balance the accounts. Quite 
enough business to occupy them, one would think, with- 
out talking, but there was a great deal of chattering 
among them, nevertheless, and plenty of scandal was in 
active circulation in the course of the day. Luncheon 
was served at one of the restaurant tables for the com- 
mittee, if their affairs were not concluded by that time ; 
and they were shut up again afterward, like jurors on a 
trial, until they had arrived at a satisfactory decision. 


172 


AT HEART A RAKE. 


On the morning that Lady Phyllis Macnaughten was 
to take her seat among them as vice president, the 
ladies of the committee were more than usually busy. 
Half of them were nonentities, the business of the club 
really lying in the hands of a few — but those few were 
notable bodies. 

Lady Matthew Winterton, seated next to the president’s 
chair, was a middle-aged woman of plump proportions. 
Her silvery gray hair was worn in crinkled bands either 
side her matronly face; her dress of black silk, made in 
the fashion of a dozen years before, fitted closely to her 
figure — her spotless white cuffs and collar might have 
been those of a hospital nurse. Lady Matthew was a 
faddist, as Lady Alexander Fox had said, in dress, as well 
as other things. Her husband — a man with his soul 
devoted to Art — could not stand her fads any longer, and 
had insisted on a separation; but Lady Matthew still went 
on making herself absurd, and believing herself to be 
treading in the footsteps of the martyrs all the while. 
She never found open fault with anything she saw in the 
club, but her silence was more eloquent than words, 

Mrs. Pooteran Works — sometimes called Mrs. “Water- 
works ” by her dear friends, on account of her being a 
great Temperance advocate — was quite a different person. 
She was the most noisy woman on the committee, and 
was forever preaching against the iniquity of Lady Bar- 
ton, as president, for allowing such things as wines and 
spirits on the premises. 

Some people thought it strange that Mrs. Pooteran 
Works, being so strict a teetotaler, should lend her name 
to a club where brandies and sodas could be called for 
ad lib.., but she defended the suggestion by saying she 
remained a member from conviction, feeling that her 
example was better than her precept. When not in 
town, Mrs. Pooteran Works spent her time in dissemi- 
nating her principles from the public platform, whence 
however it had never been recorded that she had made 
a single convert. 

Why Lady Alexander Fox was one of the club com- 
mittee would have been difficult to say, for she certainly 
was neither clever nor practical. Doubtless she had 


THE LADIES' COMMITTEE, 


173 


been elected partly because of her battered title, and 
partly because they wanted, through the conciliation, to 
keep her among them. Anyway there she was, whisper- 
ing scandal, intermingled with religion, of every other 
woman whose name was brought upon the tapis,, and gaz- 
ing through her double-barreled glasses, with an amused 
smile, at anybody else who happened to be speaking. 

Miss Emma Noble, the author of “ The Revolt of the 
Harem,” had not inaptly been termed, ‘Hhe boss of the 
show,” for she was always very much en hidence, when- 
ever any question of importance was being discussed. 
On the present occasion, she was sweeping up and 
down the room in a restless and imperious manner — her 
long train of brocade, of a dead plum color, making an 
irritating frou-frou as it waggled after her over the 
carpet. Miss Noble’s figure was an excellent peg to hang 
the aesthetic drapery of the period on — like two planks 
lashed together — and she usually clothed it in a nigligd 
and degage style. Her loose vest of apricot surah silk, 
which formed the front of the plum-colored brocade, hid 
a multitude of sins in the way of absence of contour, and 
her untidy headdress left several little stray wisps of 
hair to mercifully shelter the corrugations of her lean 
and discolored throat. Her features were bold and 
Romanesque, her hands long and bony, her age verging 
on the forties — but she had written “ The Revolt of the 
Harem,” and she thought all the world of herself. 

Women had heard or read that the book was indelicate 
and touched on matters seldom, if ever, discussed in a 
novel before ; in consequence they had rushed to get it 
from the libraries, and as women support the circulating 
libraries, the volumes had been much in demand and 
caused the book to run into a second edition, much to 
the astonishment of its publisher. It was a pity, for it 
had far better have been left to die a natural death. It 
was not a clever book: the construction was faulty, 
the characters were extremely unnatural, and it was 
written in a prosy style. But it was improper, and 
therein lay its charm. If women were educated to 
know all that concerns themselves ; if they had the evils 
of life, and how to avoid them, put in a practical manner 


174 


A T HEART A RAKE. 


before them as soon as their minds could appreciate the 
knowledge, they would not run after prurient literature 
as eagerly as they do. To educate them as efficiently as 
is done in the present age, and yet not to educate them 
altogether, is to create the appetite for eating, without 
supplying the food wherewith to gratify it. Women who 
had been educated, either through the chance of circum- 
stances or the world, took no pleasure in reading “The 
Revolt of the Harem.” To them it presented only a 
tame and inefficient condemnation of a common evil, 
which could be far better understood from the perusal 
of any medical work upon the subject. Had Miss Noble 
issued her protest in a pamphlet addressed to mothers, 
it might have opened some of their eyes, and roused 
them to action, but since she had published it in the form 
of a novel, it fell into the hands of the daughters instead, 
who, not being able — or at least, let us hope so — to under- 
stand the full meaning of what they read there, were 
either urged on to seek more definite information on the 
subject, or were left floundering in the Slough of Incom- 
prehensibility. 

However, the book had been driven, not through popu- 
larity and the praise of the critics, but because the libra- 
ries had not sufficient copies to supply the demands of 
the ladies who were “dying” to read it, into a second 
edition ; and Miss Noble thenceforth walked the earth as 
though it belonged to her, and she was the most famous 
writer thereon. What a comfortable thing it is to have a 
thoroughly good opinion of ourselves ! 

But with all her greatness. Miss Noble was not above 
wishing to secure Lady Phyllis Macnaughten for her 
friend. She was disgusted to hear that Lady Alexander 
Fox had got ahead of her. Much of her pacing up and 
down, on this particular morning, was due to that fact 
having been made known to her. The president cried 
“Order,” once or twice, before the business of the day 
began ; and the secretary whispered to the lady who 
sat next her that someone must have trod on the 
lioness’ tail, that morning. However, punctually at 
eleven o’clock. Lady Phyllis appeared in the committee 
room and the members settled down to work. 


THE LADIES* COMMITTEE. 


175 


She looked very fair and sweet and young, among 
these famous women, most of whom had a history behind 
thern. She was standing out for her rights and deter- 
mined to have her own way, but it had not yet the power 
to make her feel either triumphant or happy. Mac- 
naughten had kept to his word, and except for a brief 
moment when encountering each other in the corridors 
or on the staircase, she had not seen him since that even- 
ing. She had met little Roy that morning mounted on 
his father’s shoulder, being carried in triumph to play in 
the library, and he had caught hold of her in passing and 
tried to drag her head and that of Ronald together. 

“ Mamma ! — papa ! — kiss ! ” the child said. But Mac- 
naughten had jerked his head away, and Phyllis had 
proudly done the same, and they had met and parted 
with no better salutation than a curt “Good-morning.” 
That was as she had been on her way to the carriage, and 
she had purposely given the order, “To the Pushahead 
Club,” in a loud voice, as she was driven away. 

But now she was there, and must put all such silly 
thoughts on one side. She was in her proper position at 
last — a position in which she could have a voice in ruling 
the world of her own sex. 

She had imagined that the operations of the club com- 
mittee would have been carried on in a more serious and 
businesslike manner, and thought it strange that there 
should be so much jumping about and whispering al- 
lowed ; but then, she argued, she knew nothing about such 
matters, and since it was permitted, it was doubtless 
right and in order. But the only order in the assembly 
seemed to be the constant cries of “Order ! ” from Lady 
Barton, which nevertheless produced no visible effect. 
Presently someone nodded familiarly to Lady Phyllis 
from the other end of the long table. 

“Surely!” she said to Lady Barton, “surely — that 
is not ” 

“Our secretary. Miss Vipan,” responded the presi- 
dent, smiling ; “ yes, indeed ! it would be strange to 
find Miss Vipan absent from her post. A most indefati- 
gable little person — here, there, and everywhere ; we call 
her our private detective. Do you know her?” 


176 


AT HEART A RAKE. 


“Slightly. But surely, her name was not down on the 
list which you forwarded me.” 

“Ah ! perhaps not. I think the list was an old one. 
Miss Meakin was secretary then, but we found her rather 
unsatisfactory — not up to our work. With upward of 
five hundred members, dear Lady Phyllis, you may well 
imagine it takes all one person’s time to keep the books 
and balance the accounts. And the secretary has the 
answering of all letters connected with the club business 
also, and the filing of receipts. Quite a little business 
in itself.” 

“ I suppose so. And do you find Miss Vipan equal to 
it all ? ” 

“ Oh, my dear ! ” said Lady Barton in a low tone, “ she 
is invaluable ! Knows everybody in London, who they 
are, where they came from, and how much they have got. 
And so obliging — I have known her w^alk for miles to get 
a skein of silk or a quire of paper, just to oblige a friend. 
Very clever into the bargain — educated all Lord Gas- 
tello’s daughters — a fine Greek and Latin scholar, and as 
for arithmetic, I never knew one to equal her.” 

“ She must be a rara aviSy' replied Phyllis, “but all the 
same, I don’t like her.” 

Lady Barton lifted her eyebrows in surprise. 

“ But why not ? ” 

“ Oh ! I don’t know. It is difficult sometimes to 
analyze such things, but I distrusted her the first time I 
saw her, and I do so still. She is like a snake.” 

“And she speaks so well of you behind your back. 
She is such an admirer of yours, she cannot say enough 
in your praise. Poor Miss Vipan ! I hope you will live 
to alter your opinion of her.” 

“ It doesn’t much signify either way, I think,” replied 
Phyllis. “I shall not have anything to do with the 
accounts.” 

“Mrs. President!” exclaimed Miss Noble, who had 
been tossing over a number of papers until she had them 
in a hopelessly confused heap in front of her, “are we 
to commence with the motions this morning, or the ap- 
plications for membership ?” 

“ Well,” said Lady Barton, looking at her watch. “Wc 


THE LADIES* COMMITTEE. 


177 


are rather later than usual in commencing business to- 
day, so I think we had better go on with the applications. 
Lady Phyllis Macnaughten is so well aware of the hearty 
reception she will get among us that it is hardly neces- 
sary to detain her to hear the motion recording our vote 
of thanks for her accepting the position of our vice 
president.” 

“Hear ! hear !” from some of the ladies at the lower 
end of the table, to which ebullition of welcome Miss 
Vipan added by clapping her hands. Lady Phyllis bowed, 
and the formalities continued. 

“ An application from Ella Buzzard Rake,” said Miss 
Noble, reading from the paper in her hand ; “author of 
‘ Her Enemy,’ etc. What do you say, ladies ?” 

“Who is she ? ” asked one of the committee. 

“Oh, nobody in particular,” replied Miss Noble con- 
temptuously ; “she has published one or two short 
tales, I believe. Her application cannot rest upon her 
authorship.” 

“But surely, ‘Her Enemy’ is by the author of 
‘Ideas,’ which was quite the book of last season,” re- 
monstrated Lady Phyllis, astonished. “I think we 
should be proud that such a clever girl wishes to join the 
club.” 

“I fancy you are mistaken. Lady Phyllis,” observed 
the president. “Was not ‘Ideas’ by a Miss Tate — not 
Rake ? It was a very insignificant book, if I remember 
rightly — not much more than a pamphlet.” 

“But with more talent within its pages than in half 
the three-volume novels published,” said Phyllis. “Mr. 
Dalgairns, the critic, recommended it to me, and said at 
the time that most people thought it had been written 
by a man.” 

“ Oh, if we are to go by what Dalgairns says, we may 
as well shut up the club at once,” retorted Miss Noble, 
more tartly than was prudent. “He is against us all 
round — the rudest and most ill-natured man I ever met.” 

Phyllis, recalling Dalgairns’ strictures on the establish- 
ment in question, held her tongue and volunteered no 
reply. 

“Besides,” uttered Lady Matthew Winterton, in deep 


178 


AT HEART A RAKE. 


tones, we must not forget that this is a woman’s club, 
and we do not depend in any wise on the opinions of 
men. Indeed, their being men’s opinions, is the best 
reason for their rejection.” 

At this the new vice president felt very small and 
ventured no further suggestions, so Miss Rake’s applica- 
tion for membership was laid on one side. The next one 
happened to be from the wife of a City tradesman, and 
was received with acclamations. 

‘‘We must have dear Mrs. Jukins!” exclaimed one 
lady. “She gives the most delightful balls, and I know 
from personal experience that her friends get all sorts of 
privileges, if dealing with the firm. Have you ever 
tasted any of their confectionery. Lady Barton, or their 
chocolate creams ? They are beyond anything.” 

“I think there would be great advantages to be de- 
rived from Mrs. Jukins becoming one of us,” observed 
the president, thinking of the restaurant supplies. “ Still, 
ladies, you must of course do as you think fit.” 

“Is it not rather a pity,” suggested Lady Phyllis 
hesitatingly, “since the club is already nearly as full as 
it can hold, to admit any more members of a class in- 
ferior to our own. I suppose it was instituted exclu- 
sively for gentlewomen, and it will get so mixed if we 
are not more particular whom we admit to fellowship.” 

“But Mrs. Jukins is a lady,’” interposed Miss Noble 
quickly ; “ at least she is a perfect lady on the mother’s 
side.” 

Lady Phyllis could hardly refrain from laughing openly 
at the reservation, but replied instead : 

“ I beg your pardon. I thought someone said she 
was a confectioner’s wife.” 

“ Hus-s-s-h ! ” came in prolonged syllables from a 
voice at the further end of the room, as Mrs. Pooteran 
Works sudden»ly left her seat and professed to be search- 
ing the bookshelves for a volume of reference. 

“Mrs. Jukins is Mrs. Work’s aunt,” whispered the 
president to her vice. 

Lady Phyllis bit her lip and said nothing. 

“Well,” ejaculated Mrs. Pooteran Works tartly, as she 
returned to her seat; “it is quite time we were balloting. 


THE LADIES' COMMITTEE. 


179 


Are these the only applications for membership this 
month ? ” 

“ They are all,” responded the secretary. 

“Then we had better proceed to business and see 
which is considered to be the greater lady of the two.” 

The ballot boxes were carried round the table, and 
each lady of the committee recorded her vote. When 
they were opened. Miss Rake was found to have seven 
black balls — Mrs. Jukins, the confectioner’s wife, not 
one. 

“ That decides the matter,” said Mrs. Works tri- 
umphantly. 

Lady Phyllis could not resist asking: 

“Which matter? That Mrs. Jukins is a greater lady 
or a greater author than Miss Rake, or that her member- 
ship will prove a greater advantage to the club ?” 

“ We are not used to have any arguments once the 
balloting is decided,” said Miss Noble; “whether elected, 
or non-elected, the matter is done with. Lady Phyllis 
must. know what is the rule with all clubs.” 

“ I confess that I am not acquainted with the rules of 
ordinary clubs,” replied Phyllis; “ and am afraid I have 
much to learn. But I thought it a general rule not to 
blackball anyone for private or personal reasons.” 

“ Hush, dear Lady Phyllis ! ” again whispered Lady 
Barten; “don’t irritate Mrs. Pooteran Works. She can 
make herself so very unpleasant, when put out.” 

Thereupon, Phyllis said no more. Noblesse oblige. 
That fact alone held her silent, but like the parrot who 
could not talk, she “ thought a deal.” 

The applications for membership being disposed of, 
the monthly accounts were gone into and the expendi- 
ture checked. This was quite uninteresting to the new 
vice president, as well as not concerning her, so she had 
leisure to talk apart with Lady Alexander Fox. 

“What excuse will they make to Miss Rake for not 
admitting her to the club ? ” she asked her, sotto voce. 

“ None at all. There is none needed. Silence means 
in these cases that an application has been rejected.” 

“But surely that is not polite. Miss Rake may be 
expecting for months to hear of her election. Would it 


l 8 o at heart a rake. 

not be better and kinder to let her know our decision at 
once ? ” 

It is the rule of the club ” replied Lady Alexander 
carelessly. 

“But why have they blackballed her?” persisted 
Phyllis; “what objection have they to her ? A man is 
not^blackballed from a club, unless he has done some- 
thing disgraceful — something against the code of honor. 
No stain on his private character has the power to 
exclude him. He must have done something publicly 
disgraceful, like cheating at cards or blackmailing. It 
seems terrible to me to blackball a woman who has done 
no wrong.” 

“/ am powerless in the matter, against nineteen 
colleagues,” said Lady Alexander, shrugging her shoul- 
ders, “and, indeed, I never interfere in the elections. 
Everybody gets a white ball from me. But there is a 
good deal of animus in it, you must be aware of that. 
Miss Noble and Mrs. Pooteran Works have it all their 
own way in the matter. There might just as well be 
only two members of the committee, as twenty. It is a 
mere farce. If they wish an applicant rejected, they 
can always do it, on the same principle that the jury in 
Court are always influenced by the judge’s summing-up. 
That little woman Miss Vipan does all their dirty work 
for them. She is the jackal to their lion. Miss Noble has 
some reason for not wishing Miss Rake to become one 
of us. There is no doubt of that. Perhaps she is jealous 
of her. Perhaps she has found out that she reviewed 
‘The Revolt of the Harem’ badly — Miss Rake is a great 
journalist, you know — and so owes her a grudge. It is 
something of the sort, you may depend upon it.” 

“ Then it is most bitterly unfair,” replied Phyllis, with 
some heat. 

“Don’t say so, even if you think it,” said her com- 
panion. “They seem to have finished auditing their 
accounts. Let us make a move for luncheon.” 

And so the committee rose and adjourned to the 
restaurant, where a private table was always laid for 
them with luncheon on meeting days. 

Here Lady Phyllis Macnaughten looked around her in 


THE LADIES' COMMITTEE. l8i 

amazement, not unmixed with interest. All sorts and 
conditions of women seemed to be gathered together in 
the restaurant. Several of them were cyclists, attired, as 
Miss Nelson had been, in tweed Norfolk suits, with 
knickerbockers, stockings and gaiters, and crush hats 
or caps. They seemed to be jolly, frank, rosy-faced 
girls, quite accustomed to their costume, and full of 
life and energy. They were occupying a table near 
enough to enable Phyllis to hear all they said, and, from 
what she could make out, they had been having a “spin ” 
as far as to Richmond and back, and had met some of 
the would-be lady volunteers, whose intentions formed 
the topic of their conversation. 

“ If they get up a cavalry corps I shall join them for 
one,” exclaimed the prettiest girl of the lot, “but I can’t 
say I should care for marching on foot. Clara Bell says 
the proposed uniform was to have been gray, but the girls 
wouldn’t hear of it — so trying for most complexions, you 
know — so it has been altered to a dark red, something 
between Japanese red and maroon, which sounds better.” 

“Will Mr. Mackintosh let you be a volunteer, Janie?” 
demanded one of her companions. 

“ Mr. Mackintosh be hanged ! ” she rejoined ener- 
getically, and then catching Phyllis’ eyes fixed on her, 
she burst into a loud peal of laughter. “ I hope I’m not 
shocking anybody out of her seven senses,” she con- 
tinued, “but I suppose I may give vent to my feelings in 
the Pushahead, if nowhere else in the world; and my 
candid opinion is that if Mr. Mackintosh, or any other 
Mr., does not like what I do, he may lump it. It is rather 
late in the day to ask us to give up our own wishes for a 
man’s selfish ideas of decorum; eh, girls?” 

“Rather,” agreed another, who was drinking claret 
rather freely, on the plea that she felt regularly 
“knocked ” by her long ride. 

“When Mackintosh first saw me in my knickers I 
thought he would have had a fit,” resumed the first 
speaker merrily. “He stared as if I had been a ghost. 
When his dense brain had taken in the situation he 
ordered me in a lordly voice, intended to strike terror 
into the delinquent, to go and take them off. I told him 


i 82 


AT HEART A RAKE. 


to go and take his off, which left the situation to me. 
How I roared ! It ended by his going home in the sulks 
and declaring that he would never come back again — 
but he did^ my girls, he did— and so they all will, if you 
only treat them with becoming firmness. 

“ Let them alone and they’ll come home, 

And bring their tails behind them ! ” 

^‘Ha ! ha ! ha ! ha ! ” came in a ringing chorus from 
the rest of the cyclists in honor of their friend’s wit and 
decision. 

Phyllis listened and smiled, but she did not quite like 
it. This was not her idea of Woman’s independence and 
self-government. She had been delicately reared and 
bred, and though she was fully convinced that she wanted 
to have her own way and be made equal to her husband in 
all things pertaining to her mind and judgment, she would 
never have chosen such a way as this. 

These girls did not look like ladies — did not even look 
like women, she argued with herself, and though she 
would have them free, she did not vote for unbridled 
license. Still, perhaps, she had no right to judge anyone 
of them. What was one man’s meat was another man’s 
poison; and freedom, to be of any use to the sex at large, 
must be unlimited. If some giddy pates made a bad use 
of it, so did many male creatures the same. Women 
could not learn to avoid evil until they were made 
acquainted with it. So the little philosopher mused, as 
she consumed her cold pigeon pie and glass of burgundy. 

‘‘What do you think of that exhibition ? ” murmured 
Lady Alexander in her ear. “ Isn’t it disgusting ? Enough 
to make one quit the club at once, eh ? ” 

“ Oh, no ! ” replied Phyllis, “ I was just thinking about 
it. If we women are to have our liberty, we must have 
it altogether. We cannot say, ‘ Thus far shalt thou go, 
and no farther.’ I don’t suppose those girls are ladies, 
though they may consider themselves so. A gentlewoman 
could never dress or talk like that. It is the same 
result as if you turned a crowd of women promiscuously 
on Hampstead Heath. The ladies among them would 


THE LADIES COMMITTEE. 


1S3 


walk quietly about — the bourgeois and the demi-monde woMld 
render themselves conspicuous by loud talking and vulgar 
actions. I don’t blame the girls, I blame the club for 
making itself so promiscuous.” 

“You are quite right. A large number have crept in 
somehow who have no right to be here. Look at those 
two women, dressed almost exactly like men ! They do 
not understand the motive for which the club was founded, 
and mistake License for Liberty.” 

“But where is the line of exclusion to be drawn?” 
asked Lady Phyllis. “Considering how mixed we are, I 
don’t see how we are to exclude anybody without insult- 
ing her.” 

As she said the words she remembered the antecedents 
of the woman sitting beside her, and colored crimson. 
But Lady Alexander did not seem to take the allusion to 
herself. Her little affair had happened so long before 
that she thought people had forgotten it; indeed, she had 
almost forgotten it herself. 

“We are terribly mixed,” she replied, with her soft 
smile, “ but it is useless to remonstrate against it. Miss 
Noble and Mrs. Pooteran Works, and I may add. Lady 
Matthew, have it all their own way, as I said before.” 

“Then it was an empty farce asking me to be their 
vice president ?” observed Lady Phyllis, with a vexed air. 

“ Oh, no, dear Lady Phyllis ; pray don’t even think of 
such a thing.” said Lady Alexander caressingly. “We 
are all proud of the honor you have done us by accepting 
the post. You are a great feather in our cap, you know. 
And du reste., do you really think it would add to your 
enjoyment to be mixed up with these party squabbles and 
antagonisms ? I think you will feel so much easier out- 
side the pale. Grace our club with your charming pres- 
ence, spread our good name as far as you can, and leave 
all the dirty work to those who revel in it.” 

“That was not my idea in joining you,” observed 
Phyllis. 

“Perhaps not. One lives and learns. But I assure 
you, you will be the happier for it. Why should you grub 
among their old account books or care whom they elect 
or reject ? It can make no difference to you. Your metier 


184 


AT HEART A RAKE. 


is to look as beautiful as you can and shed credit on the 
Pushahead. Between you and me,” continued Lady Alex- 
ander, laughing, “I consider that to be my business also, 
although, of course, I know that I cannot compare with 
yourself. Ah, what a lovely thing it is to be young ! I 
would give half my fortune to go back to your age.” 

“Would you?” said Phyllis, wondering the while 
whether, if Lady Alexander had her youth over again, she 
would make a better use of it than she had done. 

At this juncture, to her annoyance. Miss Vipan came 
up to their table and slipped into a vacant seat beside 
her. 

“ I haven’t had a moment to have a mouthful before,” 
she said, as she gave a liberal order to the attendant 
waiter ; “it is really disgraceful that one of the servants 
is not told off to put all the books and papers away in the 
committee room after a meeting, instead of leaving the 
work to me. It is not part of my secretarial duties at all. 
I hope. Lady Phyllis, now that you are one of our presi- 
dents, you will reform some of these abuses for us. A 
word from you on the subject would have forcible effect.” 

“I think you should rather apply to some lady who has 
been longer in office than myself,” replied Phyllis coldly. 
“I have no desire and no right to interfere with arrange- 
ments made by Lady Barton regarding the order of the 
club rooms.” 

“But you should have a desire,” replied Miss Vipan 
sharply. “It is the presidents who see after such things. 
That is what they are for — to arrange for the comfort and 
order of the club.” 

“Indeed ! ” was the answer, given with elevated brows. 

“And how is the beau cousin V demanded Miss Vipan 
next, with her mouth full of fried sole. 

“I am not aware to whom you allude,” replied Lady 
Phyllis. 

“Why, I only saw one cousin of yours to my knowl- 
edge at your house ; Lord Percy Sefton, I think you 
called him.” 

“Poor little Percy!” remarked Phyllis; “and is it 
he whom you would designate by such a term as le 
beau cousin ? Why, we have always considered him the 


THE LADIES' COMMITTEE. 185 

plainest member of the family. He is not at all like the 
Lisnors. He is a thorough Sefton.” 

“Ah, handsome is as handsome does,” quoted Miss 
Vipan, with a look at her neighbor which was intended to 
be facetious. 

“ Oh, yes ! he’s well enough as far as goodness goes,” 
replied Lady Phyllis, with assumed nonchalance, though 
she was longing to have an opportunity to cross swords 
with this impertinent specimen of her sex. “But I 
imagined you were a French scholar. You used the 
words in their wrong sense.” 

“ Perhaps I shall learn better in time,” said Miss 
Vipan, who could scarcely say she was a perfect linguist 
after that. But she had not finished even then. Pres- 
ently she recommenced : 

“ You know Mrs. Warrington, don’t you ?” 

“I have not that pleasure.” 

“ Lady Fearon was speaking of her with you the other 
day in my presence.” 

“Lady Fearon was saying that she would like to intro- 
duce Mrs. Warrington to me, that was all.” 

“Ah ! ” There was a world of meaning in the way in 
which Miss Vipan pronounced that “Ah!” “Well, I 
shouldn’t be too quick to accept the offer, that’s all.” 

“But Lady Fearon speaks so very highly of her. She 
says she is one of the best women on God’s earth 1 ” 

“Ah, well. Lady Fearon may think so ; it is not every- 
body who would take her opinion as decisive, you know ; 
she has not much chance of knowing what is said about 
people ” 

“Miss Vipan,” interrupted Phyllis haughtily, “you 
are speaking of a friend of mine.” 

“ Oh, I know ; very good of you. I’m sure, to take the 
poor thing up ; but it does not follow you need know all 
her friends. And Mrs. Warrington is peculiar, to say the 
least of it.” 

“Peculiar in good works, I have heard it said,” re- 
marked Phyllis angrily. 

“Just so, particularly to the young man who lives with 
her. There is a great mystery concerning that young 
man. Some people say he is her son or her nephew ; 


AT HEART A RAKE. 


1 86 

others that he is no relation to her at all ; she calls him 
her secretary, as if a woman like Mrs. Warrington re- 
quired a secretary. Ridiculous ! Why, she has no busi- 
ness except looking after a lot of poor children and old 
people.” 

“And what do you wish to insinuate. Miss Vipan, that 
this young gentleman, of whom I have never heard before, 
is to her ? Have you any sinister motive in telling me 
this story ? Of what possible interest can it be to me ? ” 

There is no better plan to bring a scandalmonger to 
book than by driving him into a corner to make his mean- 
ing plain. He will insinuate and hint, and suggest and 
surmise, but he seldom says a thing straight out. When 
Lady Phyllis, therefore, asked Miss Vipan plainly what 
her meaning was in so speaking of Mrs. Warrington’s 
companion, she could only hum and hah, and declare she 
meant nothing at all and was only repeating what had 
been told to her. 

“Then you need never trouble yourself again to tell 
such things to me,” said Phyllis, as she rose from table, 
“ for I make it a point never to encourage scandal in any 
^ape. It is at the root of all the misery and mischief 
done in this world, and I don’t know which I consider 
most despicable, the one who repeats it or the one who 
listens. Good-morning.” And she swept away with the 
air of a duchess from the secretary’s side. Miss Vipan 
looked after her with a wicked light in her keen gray eyes. 
She hated her for her birth, her beauty, and her riches; at 
the same time that she would gladly have shared them all. 

“Wait,” she thought to herself, as she gazed after 
Lady Phyllis, “wait, my lady, till it is your turn. Then 
I’ll pay you out for this. I shall get my knife in you 
sooner or later, and when the right time comes I’ll turn it. ” 

She saw no more of Lady Phyllis Macnaughten that 
day, but she neither forgot nor forgave the snubbing she 
had received at her hands. 


CHAPTER XIV. 


THE DIENOUEMENT. 

Colonel Bernard had been more staggered than 
annoyed to hear from Miss Vipan, in her smooth, subtle, 
fawning way, — for Miss Vipan always contrived to appear 
to flatter while she condemned, — that his wife was a 
member of the Pushahead Club. He was too suspicious 
of her to permit her to mix freely with male acquaintances, 
but in a club strictly devoted to women there could, he 
thought, be no danger of that sort. And so long as 
Cissy did not come upon him for money wherewith to 
pay for the pursuit of pleasure, he did not much care 
what she did, so long as no young men dangled after her. 
But when he heard her confess where she had obtained 
the entrance money, matters assumed a totally different 
aspect; Cissy amusing herself with her own sex, without 
costing him anything, was one thing — but Cissy paying 
for her whistle with coin deducted from the filling of 
his stomach, was another. Colonel Bernard, like many 
another man, cared for the pleasure of eating before any 
other luxury. If he had had a good dinner, he was in a 
good temper, and vice versa. He had fancied that his 
meals had not been so carefully ordered and prepared 
lately as they had been at first, and this was the reason. 
The housekeeping money was frittered away on his 
wife’s idle fancies, and he might fare as best he could. 

He did not like trouble, but he would have taken any 
trouble sooner than dine badly; so, as a punishment for 
Cissy’s supposed offense, he proclaimed her unworthy to 
have the charge of so grave a duty, and that thenceforth 
he should take it on himself. The cook was ordered to 
present herself before her master, regularly, to receive 
the orders for the day, and having kept a strict account 
of her expenditure, to deliver it up every Saturday and 

187 


i88 


T HEART A RAKE. 


receive payment for the same. Mrs. Bernard was 
delighted to be let off so easily. She detested house- 
keeping, and her greatest trouble had been to think what 
they should have for dinner. It is true that the announce- 
ment was coupled with a strict command that she should 
never enter the doors of the Pushahead Club again — not 
because (as in the case of Macnaughten) the colonel 
feared his wife might not derive any benefit from the 
association — but simply as a means of paying her out for 
her rebellion in acting without his permission. He 
reiterated his orders also that, during his absence, she 
was to go nowhere, unless accompanied by the housemaid 
Jane. 

‘‘Never mind, ma’am,” said Jane, who was as “up to 
snuff” as most servants nowadays, and had a shrewd 
notion why her young mistress did not want her forever 
tripping at her heels; “ /V/ find a way to make the colonel 
alter his mind about this here. And bless you ! if I was 
forced to go, it wouldn’t make no difference to your 
pleasure, /know when to hold my tongue and when to 
speak out, and if you met a friend and didn’t want me no 
more, why I’d only be too glad to turn the other way and 
take a walk on my own account.” 

Jane was as good as her word, and did find a way to 
make her master regret the order he had issued. The 
next week his socks were unmended, the buttons were 
off his shirts, his clean clothes had not been aired. 

“ Lor, sir ! ” cried the artful Jane, when he angrily 
inquired why she had failed to execute her ordinary 
duties, “you can’t expect me to be in two places at once. 

I aint got more than one pair of hands. How can I go 
walking with the mistress in the afternoons and mend 
your things at the same time ? You don’t leave me no 
time to do it, sir. And you’ll please to remember as I’m 
not a black slave and moroccer, as doubtless you’ve been 
used to, and I’ve walked with Mrs. Bernard to oblige you — 
which it aint my business, as everyone knows — and so your 
socks and shirts must take care of themselves.” 

This argument being a conclusive one in the colonel’s 
estimation, the embargo was taken off his wife walking 
alone, and his socks and shirts continued to be mended. 


THE DENOUEMENT. 


189 


On the morning when he was to start to visit his old 
friends at Portsmouth, Bernard came down to breakfast 
in such a beaming temper that he was almost unrecog- 
nizable. He was dressed in a new suit, and his tie and 
button-hole were perfection. Cissy wondered why he 
should get himself up so carefully, in order to visit men 
friends. But she was too thankful that he was going to 
make any untoward remarks. She only said: 

You look very gay this morning, Henry. It will be 
lovely down by the sea. I wish I were going too ! ” 
Which was a dreadful ‘^cram,” as everyone will see, but 
if men deceive, they deserve be deceived in their turn. 

The colonel looked uncomfortable fora moment at this 
speech, as though he really feared his wife might insist 
on accompanying him, but after a slight pause he 
replied: 

“Well ! that might be very nice, but it is quite impos- 
sible, as I am going to stay the night with some bachelors; 
besides the barracks are not a nice place for ladies. I 
should object, under any circumstances, to take you 
there.” 

“Oh, yes ! I know I can’t go. But you will enjoy 
yourself greatly, I have no doubt. What time shall you 
be home to-morrow ? Are you sure you can’t come back 
to-night ? ” said Cissy wistfully. 

“ Quite sure. What foolish questions you do put. 
How could I get back this evening, when I have promised 
to dine with my friends ? ” 

“Have you packed your dress suit?” she asked 
quickly. 

Colonel Bernard fussed a little before he replied: 

“Certainly! If you had any sense you would know 
that gentlemen dress for dinner, whether there are ladies 
present or not.” 

“ Oh, of course ! ” said his wife. 

“ Now, Cissy, I must be off, and I have a word to say 
to you before I go. You will not go to the Pushahead 
Club during my absence — do you perfectly understand ? ” 

“ Yes,” she replied. 

“Now, don’t attempt to deceive me, for I’m bound to 
hear of it afterward, if you do.” 


190 


AT HEART A RAKE. 


“I know Miss Vipan is your spy,” replied Cissy 
bitterly. 

“ No such thing ! ” fumed the colonel. “ Miss Vipan is 
a very amiable lady, but she has her eyes set straight in 
her head, and does not tell untruths, like most women. 
Any way, whatever you choose to think of her, I shall 
make it a point to ask her if my orders have been obeyed 
next time we meet.” 

And with this parting shot, the colonel left the room. 
His wife looked after his burly form, clad in the tight- 
fitting suit which showed creases across his middle-aged 
back, with an expression of hatred. He thought he had 
fenced her nicely round with precautionary measures to 
prevent her disobeying him — but, in reality, he had struck 
the last blow to make her openly rebellious. 

“ So that little beast. Miss Vipan, is to be set over me 
as a censor of my morals,” she thought; “she is to watch 
me as a cat watches a mouse, and then report proceed- 
ings to my dear lord and master. Well ! she shall have 
something to report then. One may as well be hung for 
a sheep as a lamb, and my life cannot be more wretched 
than it is. I’ll go to the Pushahead this afternoon, before 
I meet Jack, as sure as my name’s Cissy Bernard. I did 
not mean to go — it is out of my way — but I wouldn’t miss 
it now for all the world. And if I meet the Vipan there, 
she shall have a bit of my mind.” 

By which it will be seen that continued tyranny was 
transforming Mrs. Bernard from a shrinking, trembling 
schoolgirl into something very like a bold and defiant 
woman. So will the timid partridge limp in the opposite 
direction to where its nestlings lie; so will the unhorned 
ewe shake its harmless head at an intruder, when its 
lamb is by its side — and so will women, from the very 
knowledge of their impotency to make laws for themselves, 
become lawless altogether. 

Lady Phyllis Macnaughten was just leaving the club 
that morning when she ran up against Cissy on the 
steps— Cissy, looking almost beautifnl in a white dress 
and hat, and the bloom of wild roses on her face. 

“Why, my dear,” exclaimed Phyllis, pleased at the 
meeting, “where are you going? You are positively 


THE DENOUEMENT. 


191 

radiant. Has the colonel been making love to you, to 
give you such a lovely bloom ?” 

“ The colonel is more likely to give me a bloom with a 
stick,” replied Mrs. Bernard. ^‘No; he has gone down 
to Portsmouth for a couple of days, thank goodness ! 
and I have a brief holiday.” 

“Then you will spend it with me,” exclaimed Phyllis 
eagerly; “ won’t you. Cissy ? Come back with me now — 
my carriage is in waiting — and pass the night. We’ll go 
somewhere nice this evening, and have a jolly time. 
You will come, won’t you?” 

But strangely enough, Mrs. Bernard held back — she, 
who a few days before would have hailed such a proposi- 
tion with childish delight, now seemed as if she did not 
care to accept her friend’s invitation — she stammered and 
grew red, and kept her eyes fixed on the ground as she 
replied : 

“ It’s awfully good of you, dear Phyllis, it is indeed, 
and of course I should have been only too glad to have 
gone with you — but I cannot, I dare not. I am doing a 
very rash thing in coming here, for the colonel’s strict 
orders were that I was n.ot to quit the house during his 
absence and — and / dare not — and that’s the end of it. ” 

“But, surely. Cissy, he could not have included com- 
ing to my house. He knows you would be safe with us. 
Come ! be brave, and trust to me. I will take you home 
to-morrow and speak to Colonel Bernard myself, and then 
I defy him to be angry with either of us.” 

But Cissy shook her head a dozen times — growing 
redder and redder the while. 

“No, Phyllis! don’t say anything more about it, 
please. It is impossible. I cannot go with you. I must 
not stay at the club more than a minute or two, or it will 
reach his ears some way or other.” 

“Then I shall go in with you,” replied Lady Phyllis, 
as she prepared to re-enter the Pushahead, “for I have 
not seen you for an age.” 

Mrs. Bernard would rather her friend had returned 
home, and left her to her own devices, but there was no 
help for. it — she could not force her to act against her 
own wishes — so they entered the general room together. 


192 


AT HEART A RAKE. 


Cissy, with her white dress and hat, looked so yodng and 
pretty that she excited general notice, but she seemed 
bent on one object only. She rejected seat after seat to 
which Lady Phyllis directed her attention, and pushed 
her way to the top of the room, where Miss Vipan was 
seated conning the papers through her spectacles, and 
surrounded by her club cronies. She glanced up as 
Cissy’s figure approached her, and remarked sarcasti- 
cally: 

“Is this Mrs. Bernard? Dear me, quite bridal-look- 
ing, I’m sure. Are you dressed for a fete ? ” 

“No!” answered Cissy, boldly and loudly, “I’m 
dressed to come and see you. Miss Vipan, and tell you 
that next time you meet Colonel Bernard, you can tell 
him that you saw me here to-day, and that I told you 
that you are a sneak and a spy, and you ought to be 
turned oift of the club for making the mischief you do.” 

“Cissy, Cissy! what are you saying?” cried Lady 
Phyllis, astonished by the torrent of words pouring from 
the little woman’s mouth. “You must be mistaken. I 
don’t think Miss Vipan knows Colonel Bernard to speak 
to.” 

“Oh, yes! she does,” returned Cissy, still all ablaze. 
“ She met him at the Nettlefolds’ and she told him that 
I was a member of the Pushahead, and he said this morn- 
ing, before he left home, that if I came here without his 
permission, he should soon hear of it, as he should ask 
Miss Vipan. And I say she is a mischief-maker, and 
everybody ought to cut her.” 

This noisy discussion had naturally attracted a con- 
siderable audience, and Phyllis’ anxiety was to get Cissy 
away before she committed herself further. For she 
knew well that her poor little friend was no match for the 
woman she had pitted herself against. 

“I am quite at a loss to account for this outbreak,” 
said Miss Vipan at length, as she glared through her 
spectacles at her infuriated antagonist. “ I certainly met 
poor Colonel Bernard — who appears a most charming 
man to me — at the house of Mrs. Nettlefold, one of my 
oldest friends, but I said nothing to him about his wife 
that was not complimentary. Why should I ?” • 


THE DENOUEMENT. 


193 

“You told him I was a member of this club,” stormed 
Cissy. 

“ Naturally I mentioned where I had met you,” replied 
the other. “Am I to understand, then, that it is a 
secret ? ” 

“You know it was. I’ve told you all so, scores of 
times.” 

“It certainly had slipped my memory, if you have,” 
said Miss Vipan, still chaining Cissy with her cold, hard, 
steel-gray eyes. “ There was one thing which I did 7iot 
tell him — the name of the gentleman who so constantly 
accompanies you here.” 

Cissy did not know what to answer to this attack. She 
threw one look of hatred at Miss Vipan, who was smiling 
coolly in her face the while, and then burst into tears. 

“Oh! come. Cissy, this is too silly!” exclaimed 
Phyllis, as she tried to draw her friend to one side. 
“Surely it is not worth crying about. Treat it with the 
contempt it deserves. No mischief-maker ever got the 
best of it yet. Even those who listen to her scandal 
despise her for it the while. Leave Miss Vipan to her- 
self and come with me. She is not worth crossing swords 
with.” 

“ Oh ! that is your ladyship’s opinion, is it ? ” remarked 
Miss Vipan acrimoniously. 

“That is my opinion, madam,” replied Phyllis, with 
dignity, as she led Mrs. Bernard down the room again. 

“ And now, Cissy,” she said, as they reached the outer 
air again; “let me take you either to your house or 
mine. How I wish I had known your errand here to-day. 
I would never have let you expose yourself as you have 
done. Don’t you see that you have only placed another 
weapon in the hands of that spiteful old maid ? You have 
been very foolish. I am so sorry.” 

But Cissy was ready now to laugh at the adventure. 

“ I’m not ! ” she said, “ I came on purpose to give the 
little wretch a set-down, and I wouldn’t have missed it 
for the world. You don’t know what a lot of that sort of 
thing — scandal and repetition — goes on in the club. I 
call it a nest of hornets. Sometimes I wish I could pile 
up all the old women in a heap and set a light to them.” 


194 


AT HEART A RAKE. 


‘‘Oh, Cissy! you silly child,” cried Phyllis, laughing 
against her will, “ but are you coming home with me ? ” 

“ No, thank you, dear. I should like it awfully, you 
know, but— but— well ! the fact is I’m engaged. I 
knowjv<?2<! won’t ‘blow over’ me.” 

“Cissy, dear, be careful. You heard what that old 
woman said about not giving up his name, but you’ve 
made her ripe to do it, now — and, for your own sake, my 
dear ” 

“Oh ! ni be careful enough, Phyllis, but somehow I 
fancy this will be the last time I shall ever have a little 
pleasure, so let me have my way for once. The brute 
will be back to-morrow. To-day is all I have to call my 
own.” 

“Does Miss Vipan know his name?” asked Phyllis 
anxiously. 

“ Of course she does ! He’s been in there to tea, 
several times. They all take their ‘mashes’ there. 
Old Vipan would too, if she had one. His name is Cap- 
tain Austin of the Third Bays. He bowed to me once 
when we were driving together.” 

“I remember,” returned her friend thoughtfully, 
“and also that something in your manner struck me as 
curious at the time. Cissy, my dear Cissy, I entreat 
you to give up his acquaintance after to-day. You are 
a married woman, remember, and you are doing a very 
thing. Pray, pray take my advice, and let this be 
the very last time — won’t you ? ” 

“Yes, yes, it shall,” replied Cissy, only anxious to get 
rid of Lady Phyllis, in time to keep her appointment 
with Jack Austin. “I cannot break my word to-day, 
but it shall be the very last time I meet him, I promise 
you.” 

And kissing Phyllis hastily, she jumped into a hansom 
and drove away. Captain Austin was waiting for her, 
as a gentleman should be. He had an open carriage 
with him, and after deciding that they would drive to 
Richmond and lunch at the Castle, the order to start was 
given, and in a short time they had left town behind them 
and were in the midst of green fields and flowery gardens. 
Jack Austin was soon made the recipient of all Cissy’s 


THE DENOUEMENT. 


95 


news, and to her dismay he seemed to consider the visit 
to the Pushahead as imprudent as Lady Phyllis had done, 
and Miss Vipan likely to prove dangerous. 

“I cautioned you the other day, you may remember, 
of the necessity of not letting the colonel get hold of my 
name in connection with yourself, and now, I very much 
doubt if this spiteful little woman will not make it her 
business to tell him of it. You have made a dangerous 
enemy for yourself, I fear, Cissy.” 

“Well, I couldn’t help it,” said Cissy, tossing her head 
— silly people are invariably inclined to be rude, when 
detected in or told of their folly. “ I couldn’t have 
rested till I had given her a piece of my mind, so it was 
to be. Besides I could tell of her, as well as she of me. 
I am sure it is a great deal worse to be a scandalmonger 
than to take you to the club to tea.” 

“That maybe,” said her companion; “but can’t you 
see the difference in your positions? You cannot injure 
Miss Vipan — what is there to injure ? I suppose every- 
body knows she is a scandalmonger and gossip — and no 
one can do anything to her for it. But she could dethrone 
you altogether, if she chose, provided the colonel be- 
lieved her story. There is no question but that she 
could do you infinite harm and part us altogether. I 
am afraid we have been very imprudent, my Cissy,” he 
concluded, with a sigh. 

But Cissy wouldn’t have that sigh at any price; 

“ How disagreeable you are. Jack ! ” she said, pouting 
her lips. “I won’t go to Richmond with you. Tell the 
man to stop and let me out. I shall walk back and have 
some of the servants’ dinner. I believe they have only 
cold meat, but that doesn’t signify. Nothing signifies 
when you are so nasty and cross to me.” 

Of course he asked her pardon after that, and swore 
she should not leave him at any risk. 

“No, no, let us have our one day of happiness. Cissy, 
whatever may betide to-morrow. Don’t let us think any 
more of disagreeable things, but only of ourselves. 
Have you ever been to Richmond before ? We shall 
drive through the Park, and when we have had our 
luncheon, we will get a boat and I will pull you up the 


196 


AT HEART A RAKE. 


river, and show you the beautiful nooks and haunts there 
are there. That will not tire you too much to go to the 
theater this evening, will it ? ” asked Austin, as he con- 
cluded. 

“Tire me? No. Nothing would tire me, with you. 
I love boating; and as for the theater, I could go to 
twenty in one evening. You think, perhaps, because 
I’m so little, that I am not strong, but you are quite 
mistaken. I’m as strong as a horse,” said Cissy, stretch- 
ing out her slender white arm, which the diaphanous 
sleeve left fully visible. Jack bent down his head and 
kissed it. She looked such a child, and talked so like 
a foolish child, that he almost forgot sometimes what 
a dangerous game he was playing with her. 

Everything went off successfully — the luncheon was 
delicious — the boat heavenly — the drive back to town 
through the Park charming. 

When Cissy had had her dinner at the Criterion 
restaurant, she was as bright and fresh as if she had just 
stepped from her dressing room, to enjoy the evening at 
a theater. Captain Austin had left the choice to her, and 
she had decided that they should go to the Savoy. Her 
intimacy with her companion had greatly increased since 
they had started in the morning. When a man has had 
two good meals, and imbibed a certain amount of liquor, 
he is inclined to magnify the charms of any woman with 
whom he may happen to be in company. And Cissy’s 
charms did not need a magnifying glass in order to be 
recognized. They were quite visible to the naked eye, 
and especially on that evening. Excitement and pleasure 
and the open-air exercise had combined to tint her face 
with a very becoming color, and to make her large dark eyes 
dangerously luminous, and the fact that Captain Austin 
was holding her hand in his the whole time they were at 
the theater did not tend to lessen her bloom. 

The opera was over at last — eleven o’clock had struck 
— and Mrs. Bernard thought she must really be going 
home. What would Jane think if she delayed her return 
much longer! 

“ Oh, bother Jane ! ” exclaimed Jack Austin, whose 
speech was just a trifle thicker than it had been when 


THE D^INOUEMENT 


197 


they started. “You’re not going back without your 
supper. I won’t hear of it ; besides I want some supper 
myself, and I couldn’t eat it without you. Come along, 
we’ll drive to Simpson’s and have a snack — oysters, or 
something like that, and a glass of chablis. Now I 
insist upon it, so it’s no use saying no.” 

He carried the girl off to the supper rooms, notwith- 
standing all her protestations that she could not eat 
another mouthful, and that Jane had sat up for her long 
enough. Austin was not unlike the rest of his sex, when 
shown a little too much favor — he had become arbitrary 
and dominant, and persisted in having his own way. And 
Cissy, having yielded so much, hardly knew how to battle 
with the wishes of her entertainer, so mounted the cab 
meekly and accompanied him to Simpson’s. 

The supper room was crowded, and it was difficult to 
find a seat. At last the waiter found a vacant table at 
the upper end of the room, and they seated themselves 
at it, with their faces toward the door. Austin was 
engaged directing the man to bring them a couple of 
dozen oysters and a bottle of chablis to commence with, 
and Cissy was looking about her rather shyly, lest there 
should be anybody present whom she had met before, 
when she saw something which nearly made her eyes start 
from her head. Advancing up the center of the apartment, 
looking to the right and left, in search of a vacant seat, 
marched a magnificent female, all bust and shoulders, 
which were however enveloped in a crimson plush 
mantle. She had evidently issued from one of the 
theaters — her face was much painted and powdered — 
her hair was dyed a bright golden color — her look was 
bold and defiant. But it was not the appearance of this 
woman, whose proper position in society it was not diffi- 
cult to define, that fascinated poor Cissy as a snake fas- 
cinates a trembling bird — it was the sight of her com- 
panion, for the preux-chevalier in attendance on this 
lineal descendant of Rahab was no other than Colonel 
Bernard, whom she had imagined to be safely with his 
bachelor friends at Portsmouth. Cissy did not dare 
cry out or speak — she did not dare attract Austin’s 
attention to the sight, lest a movement on her part 


AT HEART A RAKE. 


198 

should betray her presence there — so she sat paralyzed 
with apprehension, with a fixed stare as though she were 
suddenly turned to stone — wondering if they would pass 
the table without looking her way. 

But, unfortunately, their table proved to be the only 
one in the room with vacant seats, and the waiter 
directed his customers’ attention to the fact. 

“Here are two chairs, colonel,” said the woman in a 
guttural tone, as she turned toward them, and in another 
moment she had deposited her ample proportions upon 
one chair, while the colonel took the other exactly oppo- 
site his wife. Cissy grabbed hold of Austin’s hand so 
hard as almost to make him call out, but she had no 
voice to speak with. 

“What’s the matter, Cissy ?” he demanded, and at the 
same moment, raising his eyes to their opposite neigh- 
bors, he encountered the glance of Colonel Bernard. 
The colonel was purple in the face — his features seemed 
to have swollen to twice their usual size — he appeared as 
though on the brink of a fit of apoplexy. As Jack recog- 
nized the position, his grasp tightened on the hand of the 
trembling creature beside him. There was no need for 
explanation. Both men perceived the situation at once. 
The colonel and his wife had equally deceived each other, 
and Jack’s look of defiance spoke as plainly as words 
could have done: “She is under my protection now. 
Touch her, if you dare.” 

The colonel blew like a porpoise for a moment in order 
to gain power of speech, and then, rising from his chair, 
he seized the hand of his companion, and exclaimed : 

“ Come away at once! This is no place for us.” 

“Lor, colonel, what do you mean? The soup is just 
coming.” 

“Never mind the soup. We’ll go to Gatti’s. I will 
not stay here another minute,” and dragging his friend 
after him, he stalked quickly down the room again, fol- 
lowed by the waiter, expostulating all the way, with two 
plates of soup in his hand. 

Captain Austin felt he could not let the irate husband go 
like that. It would be everlasting ruin to Cissy if he did 
not explain matters on the moment. So, leaving his own 


THE DltNOUEMENT. 


199 


seat, he rushed after the colonel and the magnificent lady 
(who was still deploring the loss of her soup), and caught 
them at the glass doors which led out upon the corridor. 

“ Colonel Bernard ! ” he exclaimed hurriedly, ‘‘stop a 
minute. You must hear what I have to say, I insist upon 
it ! ” 

“ You insist, sir ! ” cried the colonel in a fury. “ How 
dare you use such language to me ? Take care I don’t 
kick you down the stairs.” 

“ Take care you don’t attempt it! ” retorted the younger 
man. “You owe it not only to your wife, but to me, to 
listen to my explanation of this unlucky meeting.” 

sir ! ” roared the colonel in reply. “ I have no 
wife. I disown the woman I saw seated by your side. 
She need never call herself wife of mine again.” 

“But if you will only be reasonable, I can explain the 
matter to your satisfaction,” urged Austin. “As Mrs. 
Bernard was alone this evening, I persuaded her to go to 
the theater with me, and it was entirely my fault that she 
accompanied me into the restaurant. She wanted to go 
home at once — I assure you she did — but I was so 
hungry that I begged her to let me have a little supper 
first.” 

“ I want none of your explanations,” replied Bernard, 
“and I don’t believe them. My wife has deceived me 
and disgraced herself, and I repudiate her ; once for all, I 
repudiate her.” 

“I will take her home at once,” said Jack Austin, 
“ she shall be there in half an hour. I am sincerely sorry 
that I induced her to do anything of which you disap- 
prove, but this shall be my last offense. Colonel Bernard, 
I promise you that ; only don’t blame anyone but me.” 

He tried to make the amende honorable^ not because he 
did not despise the licentious old bully he spoke to, but 
for the sake of the girl, before whom he saw nothing but 
forgiveness or ruin. 

But it was all in vain. Colonel Bernard, heated by 
wine and anger, would accept of no compromise. 

“You will not take her home to my house, sir 1” he 
exclaimed ; “if you do, I will turn her out again. You 
have stolen her, and you may keep her ! She never 


200 


AT HEART A RAKE. 


crosses my threshold again. I shall give my servants 
orders that she is not to be admitted.” 

“ My God ! ” cried Jack, all the folly and wickedness 
of which he had been guilty flashing across his mind like 
lightning, “you cannot really mean what you say ? You 
— so much older than she is, and parading the town with 
a friend of your own. Man ! think of your own short- 
comings, and have some mercy on your girl wife.” 

“Lor, colonel!” interposed the magniflcent lady, 
“don’t go to make a hass of yourself. The gurl’s only 
havin’ a little lark, like the rest of us. Live and let live, 
say I. That’s the best way to git on, aint it, sir ? ” 
addressing Captain Austin. 

But Jack was too upset to listen to her worldly-wise 
advice. He could only think of Cissy. Yet the scene 
must be ended quickly, for they were beginning to collect 
an audience. 

“Colonel Bernard, I appeal to you again,” he said. 
“You can take Mrs. Bernard home yourself, if you like, 
and I will take charge of this lady in your stead, or I will 
take your wife back to Moseley Gardens for you. Only 
say what you wish and I will obey your orders to the 
letter — anything rather than make this unfortunate busi- 
ness, which is due to my fault alone, more public than it is. ” 

“I have already told you,” thundered the colonel, 
“ that I refuse to take that woman back again I You 
have annexed her, and you may keep her. I decline to 
have anything more to do with her, now, or at any time. 
Come, my dear,” and giving his arm to the magnificent 
lady, he conducted her downstairs. 

Austin stood where he had left him, uncertain what to 
do. It was impossible, he thought, that he really in- 
tended to stick to his word and refuse to receive his 
young wife back again, just because she had committed 
the imprudence of spending the day with himself. But he 
feared there was a tough time before his poor little friend. 
When the colonel and his fair companion had disappeared. 
Jack bethought him of Cissy and the state of suspense in 
which he had left her, and turned to re-enter the restau- 
rant. At the door he encountered the waiter, who had 
been watching the proceedings. 


THE DENOUEMENT. 


201 


Unpleasant old file, that, sir,” he remarked, indicat- 
ing the departing colonel with his thumb. “Smashed up 
your little party ; eh, sir ? ” 

“Yes!” said Austin thoughtfully. “Look here, 
waiter, let me know what I owe for the oysters and 
chablis, for I want to get that lady away from here as 
quietly as possible. Don’t talk about the affair more 
than you can help, there’s a good fellow,” and tipping the 
man liberally, he returned to the table where he had left 
Cissy. 

The poor child was sitting in the same place, white as 
a sheet. Jack sat down opposite to her as if nothing had 
happened. 

“ It’s all right, dear,” he said more cheerfully than he 
felt. The girl stared in his face as though he had been a 
judge about to pronounce her doom, and he saw that she 
was shaking visibly, but she asked no question of him — 
only stared in that fixed manner, with dilated eyes and 
nostrils. Austin saw that the best thing he could do was 
to get her away from public observation as soon as possible. 

“Don’t look at me like that! There’s nothing to 
frighten yourself about ; but I think we had better leave 
this place, lest there should be anyone here to recognize 
us. I’ve arranged with the waiter, so come along.” He 
laid his hand upon her arm as he spoke, and she shivered 
as if she had been struck. 

“ Is outside ? ” she asked in a low voice. 

“Not a bit of it. He has gone somewhere with his 
lady friend. Ah, Cissy ! I’m afraid he’s a sad old boy. 
He hasn’t much scope for blaming your little indiscretion. 
But come along, dear, it’s getting late.” 

He drew her arm under his, and took her out of the 
supper room and put her into a cab. For some minutes 
Cissy did not speak, then she suddenly asked in a voice 
of terror : 

“Where are we going ? Where are you taking me ? ” 

“Taking you?” replied Austin. “Why, home, to be 
sure ! Where else should I take you ?” 

She received the announcement with a scream of terror 
that made him fear the passers by might imagine some 
violence was being enacted. 


202 


AT HEART A RAKE. 


‘‘Cissy, Cissy!” he remonstrated, “don’t make that 
noise. Someone will be stopping the cab, if you scream 
so loudly.” 

But she took no notice of his words. 

“I will not go home!” she replied. “I cannot go 
back to him ! I will never go back ! He will kill me. 
I know he will ! ” 

“ Nonsense, Cissy, what are you saying? The colonel 
will not touch you — he dare not ! I will go into the 
house if you wish it, and tell the servants how it all hap- 
pened, or I will be in the house to-morrow if you prefer 
it, when your husband comes home, to protect you from 
his violence.” 

“It is of no use,” persisted Cissy. “He would only 
wait till you had gone. No, no ! I know him too well, 
and nothing will induce me to go back to him.” 

“ But what will you do then ?” demanded Austin, with 
some consternation. “ Shall I take you to Lady Phyllis 
Macnaughten, or to your mother ? Where do your 
people live. Cissy?” 

“ In Hampshire. I cannot go there,” replied the girl, 
in more subdued tones. “ Nor can I goto Phyllis. She 
would not understand. No one will understand. I have 
been warned against this more than once. I did it with 
my eyes open. I must take the consequences.” 

“What consequences?” demanded Austin anxiously. 

“Anything ! anything which comes first,” replied 
Cissy, in a despairing voice. “ The streets — or the river, 
I don’t care which ; but I will never, never, never go back 
to that bad, cruel, wicked man again.” 

“ Calm yourself, dear child,” said Austin sadly ; “and 
let me think.” 

He put his arm around her, that she might have 
some sense of protection in his presence, and tried to 
steady his mind and decide what was best to do for them 
both. He saw the dilemma in which he was placed 
plainly enough, in which he had placed the helpless crea- 
ture beside him. He knew her terror of consequences was 
unfeigned ; that to drive her back to the unhappy home 
she had jeopardied by her imprudence might be to 
drive her on to something much worse than lay before her 


THE DENOUEMENT. 


203 


now, if he decided to make her future his care. Barring- 
ton’s jests and Quinton’s warnings, his mother’s grief, 
his own ruined prospects, all the fell consequences of 
the act he contemplated rushed upon his mind, and made 
him shiver with apprehension ; but Jack Austin was a 
man (which all men are not), and' he could not desert the 
helpless girl whom he had led into this deplorable con- 
dition. 

It was impossible. Honor, chivalry, humanity, cried 
out with one voice, “ No ! ” Whatever the consequences 
of their rashness might be, they must bear them together 
— there was no doubt of that. And such things blow 
over — he might even, by keeping her in London, be en- 
abled to maintain his place in his corps — the time might 
come when he could marry her, and acknowledge the tie 
between them publicly — anyway, whatever happened, 
there seemed to be but one thing to do now. 

He bent over the little figure who was quietly sobbing 
on his shoulder, and said : 

‘‘Cissy, if you are really resolved not to go home 
again, there is but one other thing to be done. Can you 
guess what that is ? ” 

She did not answer. 

“You must come with me, and let me protect you for 
the future. No one shall ever strike you, or frighten 
you again, dear, while you are under my care. Will you 
trust your future life to me ? Will you let me try to 
make you happier than you have been — to keep you and 
look after you, until the time comes when I can make 
you my wife ? ” 

He had to stoop very low in order to catch the sob- 
bing words that formed her answer, but presently he put 
his head out of the cab window and directed the driver 
to turn his horse’s head and go to the Charing Cross 
Hotel. 


CHAPTER XV. 


PHYLLIS IS INCREDULOUS. 

Scandal, like dirt, generally sticks. However con- 
temptible the monger — however much we may despise 
the meanness of the system — it is difficult to forget the 
rumors we have heard, and hard not to wonder a little if 
they can possibly be true. 

Nothing could have seemed more despicable in Lady 
Phyllis Macnaughten’s eyes than the insinuation that 
Miss Vipan had so unnecessarily made about Mrs. War- 
rington. Had she been in an uncivilized state, she would 
have slapped the face of the false, mean creature, who 
took such an evil delight in rousing her suspicions. She 
told herself twenty times that day that it was beneath 
her to take the least notice of it, and yet she found her- 
self the very next afternoon on her way to pay a call on 
Lady Fearon, in the hope of hearing that her estimate of 
Miss Vipan was correct. She found her friend at home, 
and the subject of Mrs. Warrington was soon on the tapis. 

“ I suppose you have not had an opportunity of bring- 
ing Mrs. Warrington to see me yet. Lady Fearon,” com- 
menced Phyllis. 

“She has been so very busy. Lady Phyllis, that she 
has been quite unable to leave her hospital. She has 
had five cases of burns and scaldings lately, and the suf- 
ferings of the poor little creatures have been terrible. 
In such cases, she will never leave her post, but attends 
to them entirely herself. Oh, she is a good woman. 
Lady Phyllis. When I think of her large-hearted charity 
and devotion, I feel as if we women of society (you’ll 
forgive my saying * we,’ won’t you ?) are not fit to cumber 
the earth.” 

“What made Mrs. Warrington first think of setting up 
a hospital ? ” asked Phyllis. 


204 


PHYLLIS IS INCREDULOUS. 


205 


It was after Mr. Warrington’s death. They were a 
most attached couple, but she had no children and her 
time hung on her hands. Besides, she has a good income, 
and she decided to expend it on charity. That was 
quite twenty years ago. So she founded this hospital for 
the children of the poor ; chiefly for accidental cases, or 
simple ailments that are likely to devolve into something 
serious if not properly attended to. I have seen as many 
as twenty children under her care at the same time, but 
as a rule, perhaps not more than ten or twelve. She has 
nurses to assist her, of course ; but all the management 
falls into her hands, and she is goodness itself to them. 
And she does a great deal more than that. She helps 
the parents with clothing, and dinners, and coal ; in fact, 
she does whatever her hand finds to do.” 

‘‘And she has no children of her own,” said Lady 
Phyllis musingly. “ I fancy someone told me that she 
had a son living in the house with her.” 

“Oh, no! a nephew,” responded Lady Fearon 
quickly. “That is another piece of goodness on her part. 
Her brother, who is a solicitor, was left a widower very 
early, with a baby boy. In a year’s time he married 
again, and Mrs. Warrington saw intuitively that the 
second wife was not likely to make a good mother to the 
child, who was delicate and backward. So she adopted 
him, and has brought him up as her own son. She has 
given him a first-rate education, and he has been ad- 
mitted to the Bar. A fine, good-looking young fellow, 
too. Indeed Sir Richard thinks very highly of his 
talents, as well as of himself. His aunt is very proud of 
him, and he is devoted to her. He might return to his 
father’s roof now, if he liked, for there are no children 
by the second wife, but nothing on earth would make him 
leave his aunt. I like young Arbuthnot. He is a 
thorough gentleman.” 

‘ ‘ I beg your pardon. What did you call him ? ” inquired 
Lady Phyllis, pricking up her ears. 

“ Frederick Arbuthnott,” repeated Lady Fearon. 
“ May I bring him also to see you some day, Lady 
Phyllis. I am sure you would like him.” 

“I think — I almost fancy — he must be the son of my 


2o6 


AT HEART A RAKE. 


father, Lord Lisnor’s, solicitor — Mr. Arbuthnott of the 
firm of Arbuthnott, Grant & Grant, of Chancery Lane.” 

“ How very strange ! Of course he is, and now I come 
to think of it, Mrs. Warrington told me some time ago 
that he went down to Lord Lisnor’s estate, in place of 
his father, who was ill. Is that correct ?” 

“Quite!” replied Phyllis. “One of my sisters 
mentioned his name to me when I was down there, a few 
weeks ago. I should like to know Mr. Arbuthnott very 
much. Lady Fearon. Pray don’t forget to bring him to 
me as soon as you can. And if he should display any 
reluctance in the matter, tell him that my sister. Lady 
Helen Powell spoke of him to me, and I want to make his 
acquaintance.” 

“ Oh, dear! I am afraid you will turn the poor young 
man’s head,” cried Lady Fearon, laughing, “but I hope 
you will not be disappointed when you see him. He is 
not at all a society man, remember. He has worked too 
hard for that. He is only just a frank, intelligent, sensi- 
ble fellow.” 

“I shall like him all the better for it,” said Phyllis, as 
she took her leave of Lady Fearon, and drove to the 
Pushahead Club. 

Her object in going there that afternoon was to meet 
Cissy and repeat the caution she had addressed to her 
the day before. Phyllis was beginning to feel uneasy 
about her little friend. She had always thought Mrs. 
Bernard silly and frivolous — but now she saw she could 
be obstinate and headstrong as well. And there can 
scarcely be a more fatal combination to steer us through 
the quicksands of evil. She intended, if Cissy were pres- 
ent, to get her to take tea with her quietly, and have a 
serious talk with her on her escapade of the day before. 
She had had no time then to point out the grave danger 
which she ran in thus openly opposing her husband’s 
commands — for, as Cissy had truly said, she had no 
powerful relations to take her part in case of a rupture 
between them. 

Phyllis glanced round the sitting room as she entered, 
but the familiar little figure was not in view. Groups of 
ladies were clustered together on the settees and divans, 


PHYLLIS IS INCREDULOUS. 


207 


but no Cissy was to be seen among them. As she passed 
up the room, Lady Phyllis inquired of one or two mem- 
bers if they had seen Mrs. Bernard there to-day, but 
they only shook their heads and looked conscious. At 
last her question reached the ears of the secretary, who 
was seated by the side of Mrs. Pooteran Works, drinking 
coffee. 

^‘Are you asking for Mrs. Bernard, Lady Phyllis ? ” 
she said. “It is scarcely likely, I should think, that you 
would find her here to-day.” 

At which surmise several ladies, sitting near, laughed, 
as though Miss Vipan had said a good thing. 

“And why is it not likely t^at I should find my friend 
here to-day ? ” replied Phyllis, in the cold tone in which 
she had taken to address Miss Vipan. “Has she made 
you her special messenger to inform me of the fact? ” 

“Oh, dear no!” said the secretary acidly. “Mrs. 
Bernard has never been in the habit of placing her con- 
fidences in me, I am happy to say, and I am quite sure 
that she will have no opportunity of doing so hencefor- 
ward. ” 

“You always talk in enigmas. Miss Vipan,” returned 
Phyllis, “and I am quite in the dark as to what you are 
driving at now.” 

“You’ll hear soon enough. Lady Phyllis,” said the 
other. “I would rather not be the first to inform you, 
but anyone who saw how Mrs. Bernard went on yester- 
day might have guessed what the end would be.” 

“Are you alluding to the very just rebuke she gave 
you for talking scandal and repeating things which are 
no business of yours ?” asked Phyllis gravely, “because 
if so, I must tell you that I consider Mrs. Bernard was 
quite right, though she might have conveyed her dis- 
pleasure in a more dignified manner. I can understand 
her annoyance more readily to-day than I could yester- 
day. I have just come from Lady Fearon’s, and she has 
been telling me all about the gentleman who lives with 
Mrs. Warrington, and concerning whom you were pleased 
to make various insinuations to me. I am sure you will 
be glad to hear that you are utterly mistaken — that he is 
Mrs. Warrington’s nephew, whom she has most gener- 


2o8 


AT HEART A RAKE. 


ously reared and educated from a child — and that he 
regards her as his mother and is ready to bring an action 
for libel against anyone who presumes to attack her fair 
fame.” 

Miss Vipan’s white, corpselike face grew almost red 
at this speech from her opponent. She resembled a wolf 
at bay, as she showed her false teeth and said : 

“I consider it a most unjustifiable thing for one lady 
to repeat the words of another, particularly when they 
were said in confidence. You can only have done so in 
order to make mischief.” 

‘^Pardon me. In the fi^t place nothing that you say 
to me can ever be in confidence , — that is only between 
friends, — neither am I so ready as you imagine to take 
a leaf out of your book. I have never been a scandal- 
monger. Lady Fearon’s testimony respecting Mrs. 
Warrington and Mr. Arbuthnott was given of her own 
free will. But I thought I would prove to you how 
untrustworthy your libelous story was.” 

“ Perhaps my next story will also come under the 
head of libel. Lady Phyllis,” exclaimed Miss Vipan, 
“when I tell you that your bosom friend, Mrs. Bernard, 
has disgraced herself by running away with Captain 
Austin of the Third Bays.” 

dares to say so?” cried Phyllis, flaring up in 
defense of the absent Cissy. 

“We have it on the best authority — that of her hus- 
band, Colonel Bernard ; whose testimony, perhaps, you 
will believe sooner than you would mine.” 

“Ido not believe it — it cannot be true!” exclaimed 
Phyllis, in the utmost distress. “Who is it who dares 
to spread those infamous falsehoods ? Colonel Bernard 
would say anything — particularly if goaded on by a 
tongue like yours. He is always ready to believe the 
worst of that poor child. He has probably driven her 
from her home by his cruelty, and then he propagates 
the rumor that she has run away with someone else. 
Colonel Bernard is a bad man. I would not believe him 
on his oath.” 

“It is scarcely likely, though,” put in Mrs. Pooteran 
Works, “that a husband would take away the reputation 


PHYLLIS IS INCREDULOUS. 


209 


of his own wife, Lady Phyllis. I know that in this 
instance Miss Vipan has good authority for saying that 
Mrs. Bernard has left her home, and with the gentleman 
named.” 

“It is untrue,” repeated Phyllis steadfastly, “and I 
will not believe it on the evidence either of Miss Vipan 
or Colonel Bernard. I have known Cissy since we were 
children together, and she is not the sort of girl to take 
the bit into her teeth. She is far too timid. That 
horrible man has driven her into the river perhaps — but 
not to do anything wrong.” 

“ I hardly think that Mrs. Bernard would be quite so 
simple as to jump into the river! ” said Mrs. Pooteran 
Works, with a pitying smile for Phyllis’ ignorance, “when 
she had the alternative of jumping into the arms of a 
good-looking young man. We saw enough of her way of 
going on with Captain Austin at the club — didn’t we. 
Miss Vipan ? ” 

“We did indeed,” acquiesced the secretary. 

“I disbelieve you both 1 ” replied Phyllis hotly. 

“Here is our president,” observed Mrs. Pooteran 
Works. “Perhaps you will put more credence in her 
word than ours. Lady Phyllis.” 

Phyllis turned to Lady Barton. 

“Lady Barton, as the president of this club, I appeal 
to you to put a stop to the scandal that is being cir- 
culated about my friend Mrs. Bernard, by Miss Vipan 
and Mrs. Pooteran Works. They are telling everybody 
that she has, left her husband for Captain Austin. It is 
shameful — disgraceful — that a young woman’s reputation 
should be so lightly sworn away. I know nothing of the 
matter myself, but I do know that Mrs. Bernard has been 
subjected to so much cruelty at the hands of her husband 
lately that it is sufficient to make any girl leave him; 
but not with another man. It is not true. I will not 
believe it.” 

“ It is very sad, my dear Lady Phyllis ; very sad in- 
deed I ” said the president, “ but what are we to believe ? 
Colonel Bernard came here this morning with a terrible 
tale about having met his wife out last night at some 
place or other, in company with the gentleman whom I 


210 


AT HEART A RAKE. 


regret to say she has but too often introduced here, and 
that she actually refused to return home with him, — they 
both defied him, — and so of course, as he says, there is 
but one remedy for such an offense — the law^” 

Lady Phyllis was terribly upset. She was too proud 
to break down before Miss Vipan and Mrs, Pooteran 
Works ; but her suppressed emotion was so evident, her 
features worked so painfully, and her frame shook so 
visibly that Lady Barton took compassion on her and 
drew her apart to her private room, where she sunk 
upon the sofa and gave vent to her grief and disap- 
pointment in a burst of tears. 

My poor, poor Cissy ! ” she sobbed. “It is not true. 
It is some falsehood of that dreadful man. He wants to 
deprive her of all her friends in order that he may have 
the better opportunity to make her life miserable. If 
she has gone — but I do not believe it for a moment — 
but, should it be the case, he has driven her to it, from 
fear and misery.” 

“Here, my dear Lady Phyllis! drink this,” urged 
Lady Barton, holding a glass of wine to her lips. “It is 
very good of you to take your poor friend’s downfall so 
much to heart, and there is no one but will respect you 
for it. You are a true friend to Mrs. Bernard, and she is 
fortunate to have secured such an advocate.” 

“Ah ! if this horrid tale is true, she will want all the 
friends she has, poor girl ! to rally round her and protect 
her. How cruel women are in such cases. Lady Barton ! 
How they hound an unfortunate creature, who has been 
driven to her action perhaps by the pure force of 
circumstances, until they make her life a curse to her. 
But, thank God ! we take a more reasonable view of such 
things now. In a few more years we shall no longer 
close our doors against a desperate woman, while we un- 
lock them for the man who led her wrong. Times are 
changing, are they not? with the Pushahead Club to 
lead the way ? ” 

She smiled faintly as she said the words, but Lady 
Barton did not quite seem to understand her. 

“Not that I believe it,” resumed Phyllis, after a 
while, “and I never will believe it, till I hear it from 


PHYLLIS IS INCREDULOUS. 


2II 


Cissy’s own lips — least of all on the authority of Miss 
Vipan, who seems to be never happy unless she is de- 
stroying the character of someone or other.” 

I think you are just a leetle hard on poor Miss Vipan, 
dear Lady Phyllis,” said the president gently. ^‘She 
has her weaknesses, doubtless, as well as the rest of us, 
but in this instance I think she has reason for what 
she says. No one could have better authority in such a 
case than the testimony of the lady’s husband.” 

“Well ! he is the last person that I should believe,” 
replied Phyllis doggedly, as she rose from her seat. “I 
will not return to the clubroom. Lady Barton — this busi- 
ness has upset me too much. I feel I shall not rest until 
I have seen my poor little friend and found out how 
much truth there is for the scandal concerning her.” 

“You will see her. Lady Phyllis,” exclaimed the presi- 
dent, with open eyes. But Phyllis mistook the reason of 
her amazement. 

“Certainly! that is, if I can find out where she is in 
hiding. I wonder why she did not come straight to me. 
She knows how welcome she would have been. And then 
all this horrid tittle tattle would have been avoided. 
Good-by, Lady Barton ; I hope I shall be in again to- 
morrow with better news.” 

With which Phyllis ran away to her carriage and drove 
at full speed to Hill Street. 

Lady Barton looked after her in astonishment. 

“ And she actually believes in her 1 ” she thought in- 
credulously ; “one woman actually believes in the virtue 
of another. Well ! I never met with such a thing in the 
whole course of my life before. It is marvelous — in- 
credible ! The world must be coming to an end. And 
in Mrs. Bernard of all people ! Lady Phyllis Macnaugh- 
ten must be either very innocent or very ignorant.” 

But Phyllis was neither. She had stood out manfully 
for her friend before that crowd of spiteful, envious 
women, but a great fear was knocking at her heart, the 
while, that Cissy had indeed cut the Gordian knot of her 
matrimonial difficulties by running from one danger into 
another. Poor little frightened hare ! driven by curses, 
kicks, and blows from her form into the cold, snow- 


212 


AT HEART A RAKE. 


covered country — who was to blame her if she fcrept into 
the first warm covert which seemed open to her ! It was 
the old story over again. A woman between two men, 
like a shuttlecock between two battledores, tossed by 
cruelty on one side into what looked like kindness and 
love on the other. Who, with a tender, suffering nature, 
would go back willingly to the cruelty ? It was not the 
fault of Women that these disasters happened so often — 
it was the fault of the laws which men made to pro- 
tect their goods and chattels. And women were no 
longer goods and chattels. Education and the advance 
of the age had so enlightened them that they would no 
longer submit to be treated like cattle. The men would 
not improve the laws on their account. They had still 
but one way out of a miserable marriage — was it a 
wonder if they took that way ? She would take it. Lady 
Phyllis said defiantly to herself, if Ronald treated her as 
Colonel Bernard had treated Cissy. 

She was burning with anxiety and indignation as she 
ran into her own house. She did not quite know what 
steps she should take to find out the truth, but she felt 
that she must do something to set her mind at rest be- 
fore the night set in. It was then about six o’clock, and 
as she entered the hall she encountered her husband, 
who had preceded her by a few seconds and was being 
relieved of his hat and stick by Travers. 

He looked at his wife nonchalantly as she came up to 
him, and said ; 

“ Well ! this is a nice story about your friend Mrs. 
Bernard ? ” 

“What have you heard?” she demanded breathlessly. 

“ If you will come into the library, I will tell you,” he 
replied. 

She followed him into the apartment, and he com- 
menced without further ceremony. 


CHAPTER XVI. 


THE SEPARATION. 

“She has bolted with Austin of the Third Bays.” 

Phyllis believed the story now ; that her husband 
should also have heard it was like cold water dashed 
on her hopes — still, she held out manfully for Cissy’s 
reputation. 

“It can7iot be true !” she exclaimed. “Who is your 
authority ? ” 

“It’s true enough,” replied Macnaughten, with a hard 
laugh ; “ everyone knows it is true. The news is all 
over town. Austin’s barrack chum, Tom Barrington, was 
my informant. He says he has foreseen it some time — 
that Austin and Mrs. Bernard have been meeting secretly 
all through the season, and both he and Quinton knew 
there could be but one ending to it. Austin is a fool — 
and she is a thousand time worse.” 

“Why? why should she be worse?” repeated Phyllis. 
She was standing on the hearthrug, with one hand on the 
mantel-shelf as she spoke, and she turned her lithe figure 
round and confronted him. 

“Why should Cissy be worse than Captain Austin ? ” 
she asked for the second time. 

Macnaughten was slow in answering. 

“Why? — why?” he said at length. “ Because she is 
the woman, and should have known better than to en- 
courage him ; because the woman is invariably the one 
in fault in these cases — a man is too excitable — he 
doesn’t count — of course he will follow if she leads the 
way. But it is her business to repulse him, to keep him 
straight — to prevent him making a fool of himself, in 
fact.” 


213 


214 


A 7' HEART A RAKE. 


Phyllis looked at him for a moment in silence. . 

Oh, you men ! ” she said at length contemptuously ; 
‘‘ Oh, you strong and noble creatures ! made in the image 
of God himself. How contemptible you appear when 
you try to lay all the blame of your own misdoing on the 
shoulders of the weaker animals that you were intended 
to protect ! Austin is a scoundrel, if you like, but she — 
poor little Cissy ! — why should she be a thousand times 
worse ? Do you know what her life at home was, with 
that brute Colonel Bernard — how he bullied and threat- 
ened and even struck her — how terrified she was of him ? 
— how little recreation she ever had — how she was driven 
to deceive from the very force of his selfishness and want 
of control ? And then this Captain Austin, whom you 
appear to consider so much the less in fault — what was 
he doing, to come, day after day, after this unhappy child — 
tempting her to do what he must have foreseen would 
end in her social ruin ? Poor Cissy is very weak and 
silly, I know that — but she is very affectionate and timid 
into the bargain ; a woman who has no power to stand alone, 
and so would all the more easily fall into the net this 
man spread for her. I do not know the facts of the case 
— I did not believe it was true until you repeated it to me, 
but I feel certain that, however it came to pass. Captain 
Austin was the most to blame.” 

“That is nonsense ! ” replied her husband ; “you say it 
out of .pure bravado. However foolish Mrs. Bernard 
may be, she was a married woman, and must have known 
her way about. A woman is never too silly to be 
cunning. And it was a most selfish act on her part. 
Look at the wreck she has made of poor Jack Austin’s 
prospects. He will in all probability have to leave his 
regiment ; he has very little private income ; his career is 
at a standstill ; he will lose his friends ” 

“ Hang Jack Austin ! ” exclaimed her ladyship emphatic- 
ally. 

Macnaughten looked at her in mute astonishment, 
mingled with disgust. He had never heard her make use 
of such a vulgarism before. 

Lady Phyllis interpreted his feeling aright, and it made 
her still bolder. 


THE SEPARATION. 215 

“ Are you aware of what you said ? ” he demanded, with 
an air of severity. 

“ Perfectly ! ” she replied, ‘‘and I will repeat it, if you 
like. Hang Jack Austm and all like him ! Oh, yes, you 
can stare, Ronald, if you like ; but if you don’t take care, 
I will say something stronger. What are his career and 
his prospects and his friends, compared with the reputa- 
tion and social status of my poor little Cissy ? She has 
probably only left one brute for another. Colonel Ber- 
nard kicks her into the arms of Captain Austin, and Cap- 
tain Austin, when it suits his convenience, will probably 
kick her into the arms of somebody else.” 

“ Probably,” returned Macnaughten, with a nonchalant 
air ; “that is the usual ending of women who so forget 
themselves.” 

“ Oh, shame upon you for speaking of it so lightly ! ” 
she cried ; “ shame upon all your sex for the careless 
manner in which you speak of the ruin of women. It is a 
jest to you when you see it in the person of another 
man’s wife or another man’s daughter ; you will bring it 
about for your own selfish gratification, but you howl 
loud enough when it touches yourselves ; when someone 
runs off with your wife, or seduces your daughter ! 1 

know what sort of home and man Cissy has left, and 
I know nothing of Captain Austin, but he cannot be 
worse to her than Colonel Bernard has been, and so I 
hope and trust she has made an exchange for the better, 
and I shall be the first to congratulate her if she has.” 

“You — you — will congratulate a fallen woman on her 
shame. Do you know what you are saying, Phyllis ? ” 

“ I do. It is about time we women stood up for one 
another, considering the way in which you men speak and 
think of us. If Cissy finds a kind friend in Austin, I shall 
be sincerely glad for her sake. I didn’t think she had 
the pluck to take the law into her own hands, but I 
rejoice that she has, and I hope she will keep it.” 

“You disgust and horrify me by your sentiments,” 
said Ronald Macnaughten. “ One would think you were 
rowing in the same boat, to hear you speak. Mrs. Ber- 
nard will find her position no matter for congratulation, 
you may rest assured of that. When she is cut by all 


2i6 


AT HEART A RAKE. 


respectable women, and all right-feeling men, she will 
wish she had thought twice before leading poor Austin 
into such a scrape.” 

“There are so7?ie women at all events who will not cut 
her for an offense which has been brought about by the 
brutality of one of the other sex,” cried Phyllis hotly, 
“and they are the members of the Pushahead Club, 
which, thank goodness, includes myself ! / shall never 

turn my back upon my poor little school friend, you may 
depend upon that, whatever you may think or say.” 

“Do you mean to tell me that you still intend to know 
this abandoned woman ? ” asked Macnaughten, flaring up 
in unison. 

“ Do you still intend to know Captain Austin, or Lord 
Charteris, or any other, I may say, of your demoralized 
men acquaintances ? ” 

“You are begging the question, Phyllis. That has 
nothing to do with it.” 

“Soy^7z^ say, but you and I hold different opinions on 
the subject. Nothing shall ever make me give up Cissy 
Bernard.” 

“The next thing you will do, perhaps, will be to fol- 
low her example,” said Macnaughten, carried by his 
annoyance to say rather more than he intended. 

“ Most certainly I should, if you presumed to treat me 
in the fashion in which she has been treated by her brutal 
husband. What would there be to keep me faithful 
to you ? Do you imagine that I value money or houses 
or lands, above consideration and courtesy? You are 
very much mistaken if you do. I am not a weak woman 
by any manner of means ; Cissy was^ and yet even she 
dared to take the law into her own hands, when driven to 
desperation. You men have left us no other way out 
of it, you see. For us, it is either degradation or dis- 
honor. I wonder which is worse — to be a man’s butt for 
cursing or kicking, or be cut by people whom you don’t 
care a jot for,” said Lady Phyllis, with a nioue of disdain. 

“God keep you from either ! ” ejaculated her husband. 

“ I don’t know why He should. I’m no better than 
Cissy, I am not sure that I am as good ; and yet He has 
not kept her. I fancy it lies more in your hands than 


THE SEPARATION, 


217 


the Almighty’s. If you want to keep your wives straight, 
don’t taunt them with their impotency for revenge ; 
don’t treat them like infants in the nursery, and above 
all, set them a good example yourselves. Till you learn 
how to do these things, there will be plenty of runaways 
among their number. For remember, it is not actually 
necessary to make an open bolt of it, like poor Cissy, to 
be a runaway. More of us do it secretly than in the 
open. We run away in thought and feeling, and respect 
and affection, until you have nothing but the empty nut- 
shell left, and all the kernel gone.” 

“Phyllis, what has come to you? You are not like 
yourself to-night ! ” exclaimed Macnaughten. 

“ I am not myself. I am only a woman thinking of 
the wrongs of another woman whom she loves. Cannot 
you see the difference ? And then to hear a man like 
you speak as it were all her fault — her fault, poor 
little creature, who scarcely ever saw a man till her 
mother sold her to that old chimpanzee ; who is as igno- 
rant and frightened and weak a girl as God ever made ; 
and not a word of condemnation hardly for Captain 
Austin is enough to make a saint swear. What is her 
past life compared to his ? a sheet of blank paper. Cap- 
tain Austin has probably led the life of most single men, 
has a record of immoralities and debaucheries and blas- 
phemies to look back upon, and yet you dare to say she 
is the worst of the two. Why, he is not fit to undo the 
latchet of her shoe ; no man is worthy of any woman, 
until he has unmade her for his own use. Sometimes 
I think that I despise you all too much for words ! ” 

“ Except, I conclude, your cousin Lord Percy ! ” 
remarked Macnaughten sarcastically. 

Lady Phyllis reddened. 

“ It is like you to have made that insinuation,” she 
said. “ I see that I shall yet have to include you with 
the rest of your sex.” 

“ It was ungenerous, I admit ! ” he answered frankly, 
“and it is untrue. But you make me so mad when you 
talk like that that I don’t know what I am saying. One 
thing is very evident to me — that we are not happy 
together and that we should be better apart. Would 


2i8 


AT HEART A RAKE. 


you like to be rid of me altogether? Would you like to 
have a separation ? ” 

“As you please,” she answered indifferently. 

Macnaughten had thought that she would have indig- 
nantly refuted the proposition, and her apparent acquies- 
cence cut him to the heart. 

“ Marriage has been a failure in our case — there is no 
doubt of that,” he said, after a pause, “and yet I don’t 
know why it should be. The question is, where will it 
end ? ” 

“God knows !” replied Lady Phyllis, with assumed 
lightness; “perhaps, like Cissy Bernard’s, in the divorce 
court.” 

“No, no ! Phyllis, don’t say that — don’t think it, 
for both our sakes ! ” exclaimed Macnaughten excitedly. 
“We will cut it short before that day arrives. We will 
have a separation first.” 

“ I think it will be best,” she said. 

“ Is that your real opinion ? ” he asked, while a vague 
dream of peace and liberty passed through his own 
mind; “would your life be more endurable away from 
mine ? ” 

“ I think it would be best for both of us. You know 
we cannot agree, Ronald. Why not be free to live our 
own lives ? My friends are not your friends, nor my 
tastes your tastes. We seem scarcely to have an idea 
left in common, and we never can talk for a few minutes 
without quarreling. If it goes on much longer like this, 
I think it will kill me.” 

“ Then let us end it,” he replied gloomily. “I am not 
happy any more than yourself. I can scarcely be more 
lonely than I am at present. I don’t suppose that you 
ever loved me, — it was doubtless a mistake that we ever 
married, — so the sooner we rectify it, the better. It — it 
has taken me rather by surprise, Phyllis, though perhaps 
it ought not to have done so; so I will speak to you again 
about it in the morning. Are you engaged to go any- 
where this evening ? ” 

“I was, but I shall put it off. I do not feel as if I could 
encounter the remarks I may hear about poor Cissy. So 
I shall stay at home and go to bed early instead.” 


THE SEPARATION. 


219 


Very good. I will see you in your boudoir at eleven 
to-morrow morning, if I may. Good-night.” 

He left the room hurriedly as if he could not trust 
hiniself to say another word, and after having dined at 
his club (where his frequent appearance lately had already 
become a subject of comment), he went on to see his 
friends, the Leytons. Not that he intended blurting out 
what had passed between Lady Phyllis and himself — only 
his perturbed spirit needed soothing, and he knew not 
where else to find peace and quiet. 

The doctor was not yet in from his evening rounds, but 
Mrs. Leyton met him with a face full of pleased excite- 
ment. 

“ Eureka ! ” she cried. “ I have succeeded at last, Mr. 
Macnaughten, in persuading my dear old man that he 
owes something to his wife and children as well as to his 
patients, and he has consented to take two months’ holi- 
day, and we are going — guess where ! ” 

Ronald tried to show sympathy with the wife’s pleasure, 
and forced a smile. 

‘‘How can I tell? The mountains of Switzerland, 
perhaps, or the shores of Cornwall. Somewhere very 
bracing, of course. Not to India, as is the fashionable 
craze nowadays, I hope.” 

“ No ! no ! you are wrong all round, but I hardly 
expected you to guess it. What do you say to a cruise to 
Norway and Sweden, in the yacht of our friend Mr. 
Sunderland ? ” 

“ That will be delightful. Has Mr. Sunderland room 
for any more ?” 

“Would you like to come too? I believe it would do 
you more good than the moors, for you have been looking 
rather seedy of late. But is Lady Phyllis a good sailor ? 
It would not be much fun if she were ailing.” 

“No, no! I was only jesting. How could one intrude 
one’s self on a private party ? ” 

“ But it is not that exactly. We are to pay a sufficient 
sum for our keep on board. You see, Mr. Sunderland 
has this lovely yacht, the Evaline., and he loves to fill her, 
but he cannot afford to entertain a large party, so his 
friends pay a nominal sum each for their board. But we 


220 


AT HEART A RAKE. 


shall get carried over for nothing, which means a good 
deal to us, and we shall be in delightful company. Now, 
do try and come too.” 

“We will talk about that afterward,” said Macnaugh ten. 
“When do you start?” 

“In a fortnight; and I have to make arrangements for 
packing all the dear children off into the country before 
we go, so you may suppose my hands are pretty full. 
But I would take any amount of trouble to get the doctor 
out of London. He can have no rest here, people will 
fall sick — so provoking of them — and they will have Jack 
into the bargain, and he is positively fagged to death. 
The next thing will be that he will fall sick, too; so I am 
just out of my wits with joy, to think he has yielded to 
my entreaties. Two whole months, spent chiefly on the 
sea. Oh ! he will be a new man when he comes home 
again ! ” 

“And how will you like a new man instead of your old 
man ? ” said Macnaughten, smiling, for it was a regular 
custom of his to ‘‘ chaff ” these married lovers on their 
spooniness. 

“ About as much as Lady Phyllis would like to exchange 
you for the first man she meets in the street,” replied 
Mrs. Layton, smiling also. 

“ But that is no criterion,” replied her guest sadly. 
“ I am not Leyton. My wife might easily find someone 
better suited to her mind.” 

“I don’t believe it!” cried Mrs. Leyton stoutly. 
“What makes you talk such nonsense this evening, Mr. 
Macnaughten ? ” 

At this juncture the doctor entered the room, and all 
the details regarding the wonderful voyage to Norway 
were reiterated. 

Macnaughten joined in the conversation as cheerfully 
as he could, but his old friends soon saw that something 
more than usual was the matter with him and felt pro- 
portionately anxious. After a while the doctor looked 
at his wife, and she, observing as naturally as possible 
that it was time she took a peep at her young ones, rose 
quietly and left the two friends to themselves. This 
married couple were so much one that they had no need 


THE SEPARATION. 


221 


to ask each other’s wishes. A glance was enough. They 
had not commenced, perhaps, by thinking so much 
together, but their mutual affection had made them wish 
to dcf so, and the result was that they did. With them, 
there was never any need of explanation, or apology, or 
excuse. What one desired, the other desired — that was 
the secret of Mrs. Leyton leaving her husband, on this 
occasion, to inquire into the state of Macnaughten’s mind. 

As soon as she had disappeared, the doctor rose and 
put his fingers on Ronald’s wrist. 

“You’ve feverish, my boy,” he said; “what’s the 
matter ? Don’t you feel well ? ” 

“ Not over and above,” replied Macnaughten wearily, 
“but it’s nothing. The outcome of the d — d unsatisfac- 
tory life I’m leading. Was there ever such a waste of 
existence! Twenty-eight long years of life, and nothing 
to show for them. Five thousand a year, and no one the 
better. What man could derive satisfaction from such an 
existence ? ” 

“I have often told you you would be happier if you 
had some solid work to do — something more to show for 
your life than so many dozen volumes got through in the 
course of a twelvemonth. But your present condition is 
not due to that. There is something more recent the 
matter. Your pulse is that of a man on the brink of a 
fever. Do you sleep well ? Have you been imprudent 
about bathing in the heat of the day ? Is your appetite 
as good as usual ?” 

“Oh! stop your medical questions, for Heaven’s 
sake ! ” exclaimed Macnaughten, as he drew himself 
impatiently away. “ You must have deuced little dis- 
crimination, if you cannot see that whatever may be the 
matter with me, it has nothing to do with my physical 
health.” 

“Perhaps I am not such a fool as you credit me with 
being, my dear fellow; but your body is the only part of 
you upon which I can touch without seeming imperti- 
nence.” 

“ No ! that’s not fair. Jack,” replied the other. “ How 
often used I not to go to you at Oxford, when I had got 
into one of my numerous scrapes; and how ready and 


222 


AT HEART A RAKE. 


willing you always were to pull me out of them. I can 
never forget your goodness to me as a youngster.” 

‘‘I should be just as ready to help you now, Ronald, if 
you needed my assistance. But I hope all that st>rt of 
thing is over for you. With such a beautiful wife ” 

“Ah! dear old man! there’s where your ignorance 
comes in. You fancy, because you have drawn a prize in 
the matrimonial market yourself, that all the world must 
do the same, whereas that is just where my trouble lies. 
Lady Phyllis and I don’t get on together. You are the 
only person I would say it to, and I know you will let it 
go no farther — but I am not happy. Jack, neither is she. 
Our marriage has proved a woeful failure.” 

“You make too much of it, dear old chap. I have 
feared for some time past that you did not pull quite so 
well together as I could have wished, but surely it is 
going rather far to call your marriage a failure. Lady 
Phyllis maybe a little disposed to be rebellious sometimes 
and want to have her own way; most young girls do that, 
you know. Marriage is a sort of fairy tale to them, in 
. which all they will have to do is to sit still and be wor- 
shiped; but experience and babies soon alter all that sort 
of nonsense and bring them to their senses. Show her 
firmly that you intend to have way, and it will be all 
right, by and by.” 

“ Perhaps it will. Jack, but not as you imagine. We 
have decided to separate.” 

“ What I'' exclaimed his friend, in a voice of unfeigned 
astonishment. He had thought the young couple had a 
tiff sometimes, but his thoughts had never gone so far as 
this. “Nonsense, man, nonsense!” he continued, see- 
ing that Ronald did not contradict his words, “ it is 
impossible you can contemplate such an act of madness. 
Separate from Lady Phyllis — the girl I used to laugh at 
you for being so crazy about ! And when you have a 
child, too. Oh, impossible ! It must not be. You will 
regret it forever afterward.” 

“Do you really think so?” said the younger man. 
“ But what is the use of two people living together, when 
they hardly agree on a single thing ? ” 

“But that must your fault, Ronald,” said Dr. Ley- 


THE SEPARATION. 


223 


ton seriously; “ one must be the master in a house, and 
that one should be the husband. If your demands are 
just, it is your part to see that they are obeyed and no 
reasonable woman, no woman who loves you, would dis- 
pute them.” 

“But you don’t understand,” replied Macnaughten 
fretfully; “ Mrs. Leyton and you keep house together on 
such a different plan. Lady Phyllis is, or wishes to be 
thought, one of the foremost women in society. In the 
present day that seems to me to include everything that 
in former times we considered unwomanly and unlady- 
like. For instance, she insists upon belonging to a 
female club called the Pushahead, which entails her hob- 
nobbing with all the members of it — some of them not 
over reputable — and introducing them to my house. But 
I have not appeared able to make her happy for a long 
time past. Jack, and I’m sure I don’t know why. I’ve 
never refused her anything in reason, and God knows 
I’ve loved her — but it is not love that wives want nowa- 
days. It’s their liberty, free and uncontrolled — liberty 
to go where they like, with whom they like, and no ques- 
tions asked. They say that men do it, and so should 
they. Perhaps they’re right, but it is all very different 
from what I imagined a happy married life to be.” 

“ They are not right — they are wrong ! ” replied the 
doctor, with energy. “ And I am very sorry to hear that 
Lady Phyllis should take such a distorted view of things. 
But surely she used to be very fond of you, Ronald.” 
Macnaughten’s voice faltered, as he replied : 

“I believed so. I thought there never were two 
people who cared so confoundedly for each other in this 
world before. I know I worshiped her. And she used 
to say she did the same by me. You know. Jack, that it 
is not easy to speak of such things, nor to describe them, 
but if you had told me this time last year that my wife 
would have deliberately and calmly agreed that we should 
separate and never live with each other again, I should 
have called you a liar.” 

“But it mustn’t be — we must find a way out of it,” 
exclaimed Leyton. “You are too young to have your 
life wrecked in this fashion, my dear fellow I ” 


224 


AT HEART A RAKE. 


“What would be the use of finding a way out of it, 
when I have lost her affection,” asked Macnaughten 
moodily. “ She told me only this evening that she would 
be happier living by herself; that she is determined not 
to give up any friend of hers of whom I may disap- 
prove. And to tell the truth. Jack, / too am sick of it. 
To live within sight of one’s lost happiness is worse than 
giving it up altogether. At all events in the latter case 
you miss the torture of longing to regain what is no 
longer yours. We have been virtually separated now for 
weeks past, and I would rather be out of sight of it and 
try to forget that it has ever been.” 

“But, my dear lad, you have your child to consider. 
Do you mean to relinquish all claim to little Roy ? ” 

“ Oh, no ! of course not. That must be clearly under- 
stood, that I have as much access as I choose to my 
child. And when he is seven, I shall claim him alto- 
gether. I love the boy too much to give him up.” 

“ But that will be very wretched for his mother. He 
will be the only thing which she can claim as her own.” 

“He will be the only thing that I can claim also,” 
returned Macnaughten. “He is mine, and I will not 
relinquish him, except for his period of infancy.” 

“I hardly think Lady Phyllis will accede to your terms, 
Ronald.” 

“You don’t know her. Jack — you don’t know these 
women of the period. They would give up anything in 
order to gain their liberty. What do they want with 
children ? The care of them interferes with their cycling 
and football and cricketing clubs. The woman of to-day 
is before all things a sportswoman, or a litterateur^ or a 
politician. Everything else must succumb to her new 
craze, whatever it may happen to be.” 

“ I think you are rather hard upon your wife,” remarked 
his friend. “ Don’t forget that, before all other things, it 
is your bounden duty to be her friend and counselor. If 
you fail in your duty, you cannot expect her to fulfill 
hers.” 

“Well, well!” said Macnaughten, rather impatiently, 
“ we have threshed the matter thoroughly out between 
us, and we have concluded it shall be. I am going to 


THE SEPARATION. 225 

consult my solicitors about the arrangement of matters 
the first thing to-morrow morning.” 

“Ronald,” said Leyton, “listen to me. You always 
were a good boy at college, and took my advice, and it 
saved you from many an awkward scrape with the authori- 
ties. But you were never in so awkward a predicament 
as this promises to be, unless you will take a little more 
time for consideration before you put it into practice.” 

“ I tell you it is of no use,” interrupted Macnaughten, 
“the thing is settled already. I’m not going to bend the 
knee to an obstinate woman, determined to go her own 
way, and entreat her to listen to reason. She may go to 
the devil for me ! ” 

“ Nonsense ! you don’t mean what you say,” exclaimed 
the doctor sternly. “ I am not going to persuade you to 
give up your project, only not to put it out of your power 
to return to the old footing in the future. Don’t go to 
the lawyers about it. Don’t make your separation a peg 
for public gossip. Give Lady Phyllis and yourself a 
ghost of a chance to come together again.” 

“ Never — never ! ” cried Ronald emphatically. 

“And if it is to be, never ! never ! you will do your- 
selves no harm by a little delay in making your separa- 
tion legal. Settle what you like with Lady Phyllis, 
privately — you can draw up and sign a paper of separa- 
tion by mutual consent, agreeing as to alimony and such 
particulars, and it will be time to go to your solicitors 
when either of you break conditions. But for the child’s 
sake, my dear old chum, and for your own sake and Lady 
Phyllis’, don’t set the whole town crowing over your 
matrimonial difficulties.” 

“I think you are right there. Jack,” said the other 
slowly. “ I confess I did not think of the boy before. 
For Roy’s sake, it will be best to avoid all scandal. I 
think Lady Phyllis will see it in the same light. Thanks 
for your advice, old fellow. You always were my best 
friend. And don’t think that I am not suffering over this 
wretched affair. I am suffering hell ! ” 

“ I know you are — that is why I hope that, with time, 
it may all blow over. Separation is a wonderful eye- 
doctor, sometimes, Ronald. It makes us see things in a 


226 


AT HEART A RAKE. 


totally different light. And if you do go away from town 
for a while, I hope you will come with us on the Evaline. ” 

“ Perhaps; that is for future consideration. Let me get 
out of this horrible nightmare first, and then you may be 
sure that I will run away as far from it as I possibly 
can.” 

He wearily bade his friend good-night, and returned to 
the house which was henceforth to be no home for him. 

At eleven o’clock the following morning he presented 
himself in Phyllis’ boudoir. No salutation passed be- 
tween them except an ordinary good-morning, but neither 
looked as if he or she had slept, and though their faces 
were carved in marble their lips trembled and their hands 
shook. 

have been thinking a great deal of our conversation 
last evening, Phyllis,” he commenced,, ‘‘and since we are 
agreed on the subject, there is no need to apply to a 
solicitor about it. A mutual consent to a separation, 
signed by our own hands, will be quite as efficient — so 
long as we remain of the same mind.” 

“ J/y mind will not alter,” she said proudly. 

“You have quite made it up then. There is no chance 
of your repenting the step we contemplate taking, when 
too late ? ” 

He could not have put a question more calculated to 
change her half-formed desire into an obstinate resolu- 
tion. 

“Whichever of us repents,” she returned significantly, 
“ it will not be 

“And it will not be 7,” replied her husband. “ I’ve had 
quite enough of this sort of thing, and am longing for a 
change. Of course, you know that nothing will make me 
give up Roy.” 

“You will not take him from me!” she exclaimed, 
with sudden terror. 

“ No ; you need have no fear on that subject, because the 
law will not allow me to claim the guardianship of him 
until he is seven. But after that period I shall undertake 
his education, and you will have access to him, as I shall 
in the present. You will be able to see quite as much of 
him as if he continued under your charge.” 


THE SEPARATION. 227 

‘‘And what access shall you demand to him now ? Are 
you to come to my home, wherever it may be ? ” 

“ Don’t alarm yourself, Phyllis ! I shall have no more 
desire to enter it than you will have to see me there. 
Reynolds can bring the child to see me once a week, but 
you must agree not to take him out of England without 
letting me know. I think you will acknowledge that 
those are not hard conditions. While matters continue 
as they are now, I shall allow you two thousand a year, 
which I hope you will consider sufficient for your require- 
ments. I would divide my income with you, had I not 
the Roxburgh box and other farms to keep up.” 

“Oh, it will be ample — more than enough,” she mur- 
mured. 

“ I do not think that. I wish you to live in the style 
that becomes my wife — for you must not forget that you 
are still my wife, Phyllis ! But I am sure we are wise in 
acting as we are about to do. It has always been my 
opinion that when married people have ceased to find any 
pleasure in each other’s society, they ought to part. It 
would be too terrible to keep together until we loathed 
each other, and our lives culminated in some awful 
scandal like that of Mrs. Bernard. For God’s sake, save 
me from that, Phyllis ! I trust you with my honor, 
which has never been sullied yet. Keep it sacred, if only 
for Roy’s sake ! ” 

“What I want, Ronald, is my liberty — not bondage to 
some other man. If bondage were not irksome to me, 
I should remain with you.” 

“ And yet, surely, I have not been a hard taskmaster 
to you.” 

“No, but as I have already told you, I am sick of it 
all. Married life is one long weariness to me. There is 
nothing new or interesting in it. I am afraid — it seems 
a dreadful thing to say — but I am really afraid I am tired 
of you.” 

“Then it is indeed time that we parted,” said the 
young husband bitterly. “ Marriage is not made, it seems, 
for all time, but only while it can amuse or distract. 
And yet you used to say you loved me, Phyllis ! ” 


228 


AT HEART A RAKE. 


True; I suppose we are equally to blame. But let us 
at least part friends. Let us part indeed, because we are 
friends and wish each other to be happy. It has always 
seemed terrible to me that people who have loved each 
other should become enemies and refuse to speak. We 
can occupy separate establishments and yet be amiable 
should we chance to meet.” 

“But if” — said Phyllis hesitatingly — “if you should 
think it best, Ronald — couldn’t we go on living under the 
same roof, and yet — yet ” 

“I understand you, Phyllis, but it is impossible. I am 
not sufficiently heroic to subject myself willingly to a 
lifelong agony. It is difficult to forget that we are 
husband and wife, although we have ceased to regard 
each other as such. I shall go into bachelor apartments. 
Do you wish to remain here ? If so, remember the house 
is yours.” 

“ Oh, no ! ” said Phyllis with a shudder, as she thought 
how empty the house where they had spent their first 
happy married days would seem without hhn; “ it would 
be so lonely — I mean it is too large. I would rather go 
somewhere where I have never lived before. When this 
matter is quite settled, I will go down to my father for 
a little while, until I have decided what I shall do.” 

“Very good. Then I shall put this house into an 
agent’s hands. You can choose what furniture you like, 
for your new home.” 

“ I do not wish for any of it, thank you.” 

“ In that case, I had better let it furnished. You 
appear to have your plans cut and dried. I suppose you 
have been thinking of the probability of this change for 
some time past,” said Macnaughten bitterly. 

“ I have thought of it, naturally. Our marriage was a 
great mistake.” 

“A terrible mistake ! ” he echoed. “To marry a cold, 
loveless woman is the worst mistake that one can make.” 

“ Or an indifferent husband. I fancy one is as bad as 
the other ! ” retorted Lady Phyllis. 

“Well, you will have it all your own way now. You 
will no longer be able to complain of too much coercion. 
You can ask Charteris or Sefton or any other man to 


THE SEPARATION. 


229 


accompany you to the theater, or out driving, without 
let or hindrance, and I hope you may enjoy it.” 

“I mean to enjoy it,” replied his wife; “and you can 
dine and spend the evening with your dear friends, the 
Leytons, as often as you please, and no inconvenient 
questions asked when you come home again. You will 
know how to make use of your liberty just as well as I 
shall.” 

“I hope so indeed! ” said her husband, as he rushed 
from the room. And in a few days more, the astounding 
news reached Sedgeley Manor that Lady Phyllis and Mr. 
Macnaughten had made up their minds to live apart for 
the future. 


CHAPTER XVII. 


THE EARL REASONS IN VAIN. 

The announcement came upon Lord Lisnor’s family- 
like a thunder-clap. They had been such a highly re- 
spectable steady-going family, so free from all scandal 
and publicity, so foreign to the ways of fashionable life 
in London, that, in their simple eyes, a separation be- 
tween husband and wife seemed almost as disgraceful as 
a divorce. 

And what might it not portend ? To what further dis- 
aster might it not lead ? Was it possible that their sister 
— whom, notwithstanding their covert, jealous sneers, 
they had so much envied — was to be degraded from her 
high estate. Was she no longer to be rich, fashionable, 
and sought after ? Might not all her good fortune end in 
her returning to her father’s house, under impoverished 
and equivocal circumstances ? 

These were the surmises and sentiments of the elder 
sisters — Lady Catherine would not believe for an instant 
that dear Phyllis could possibly be in fault, and Lady 
Helen was full of fears for her sister’s happiness, but 
none at all for her respectability. 

The earl determined to go to town at once and see if 
he could not patch up matters between the young couple, 
and they could hear nothing definite till his return — Mr. 
Macnaughten’s letter, announcing the fatal news, having 
said no more than follows : 

“ My Dear Lord Lisnor : 

*‘It has become my painful duty to inform you that 
Phyllis and I have at last made up our minds that we 
shall be happier living apart than together. This con- 
clusion, as you may suppose, has not been arrived at 


230 


THE EARL REASONS IN VAIN. 23 T 

hastily. On the contrary it is the outcome of many 
months of deliberation. Our tastes and ideas differ so 
strongly that married life has become one long pull for 
the mastery, under which circumstances I should con • 
sider it almost criminal to force her to bend her will to 
mine, or to endure the discomfort of my daily presence. 
We are still under the same roof, as we have no wish to 
part otherwise than amicably, and you may rely on me 
to make her future life as free from annoyance of all sorts 
as it is in my power to do. That she came to me with- 
out a marriage settlement will make no difference to 
her now, as I shall treat her exactly as if she had one. I 
have written you the earliest news of this unfortunate 
termination of our marriage, and I trust you will not 
blame me more than is necessary in the matter. 

“I am. Dear Lord Lisnor, 

“ Yours truly, 

“Ronald Macnaughten.” 

The comments made on this letter were, as may be 
supposed, most various. The earl seemed to treat it 
with the most indifference. 

“ Pooh, pooh, pooh !” he exclaimed, as he might have 
done at a tiff between two of his daughters, “ it’s non- 
sense to treat a matrimonial squabble with such ridicu- 
lous solemnity. Macnaughten is Scotch all over. He 
takes everything au grand serieux. That minx Phyllis 
has boxed his ears, I suppose, and offended his dignity, 
so there is to be a regular smash-up, and a public scandal. 
But it must be prevented. I shall go up to town at once 
and see the two fools upon the subject. It’s most annoy- 
ing to have to leave home just as the hay is being carried 
— I have not a soul about the place who is fit to be 
trusted to see after such things. I wonder,” continued 
Lord Lisnor, as a vision of too much cider being con- 
sumed, and too little work done, floated before his mind, 
“I wonder now if my presence is really necessary. I 
dare say it will blow over without my interference. It’s 
only a lovers’ quarrel after all. They are too fond of 
each other to mean it seriously.” 

“ Oh, yes, papa, do go ! ” remonstrated Lady Helen. 


232 


AT HEART A RAKE. 


“ I am afraid it is more serious than you think. Phyllis 
said something to me about it, when she was down here, 
that made me fear for her married happiness. Pray go, 
papa, and as soon as you can. Ronald would never have 
written to you like that if he had not meant it. You 
know how slow he is to make up his mind, but when it is 
made up, he does not alter. He is not like dear Phyllis, 
who says a dozen different things in as many minutes. 
Do go this very day. We will look after the hay carry- 
ing, won’t we. Aunt Kate? and see that everything is 
right. But all the hay-carrying in the world cannot be 
of so much consequence as Phyllis.” 

‘‘Nelly is right, Lisnor,” said his sister. “I am afraid 
this is a serious business, and you may be too late to do 
any good, if you do not go at once. You need not stay 
more than a night. I will see about the packing of your 
things, and I had better order the carriage to take you 
to Hillford in time for the two o’clock train. Will you 
be ready ? ” 

“I suppose I must,” grumbled the earl, “but it is 
excessively inconvenient. Who would have a family of 
daughters ? Here, when I thought I had settled Phyllis 
comfortably in life, she chooses to kick over the traces. 
What on earth does the girl want ? She had everything 
in conscience that a woman can desire — money, houses, 
a good-looking husband, and a brat to inherit — and she 
must needs chuck them all away for some silly whim. 
Well, if I can’t patch it up between them, Phyllis must 
shift for herself in the future. For I can’t help her. 
I’ve more than enough on my hands already, with five of 
you eating your heads off, and the crops worse and worse 
every year.” 

“Well, papa,” replied Lady Camilla, “you needn’t 
throw it into our teeth that we are still at Sedgeley 
Manor, ‘ eating our heads off,’ as you kindly put it. It 
isn’t by our own will, you may rest assured of that. We 
should have been off your hands long ago, if you had had 
a little worldly wisdom and not kept us cooped up in this 
hole, where there is never a man to be seen. What 
chance have we had to get married, I should like to 
know, unless we had elected to throw ourselves away 


THE EARL REASONS IN FAIN. 233 

upon some paltry commoner, as Phyllis did. And a nice 
end this is to her fine marriage. You will most likely 
have her back again upon your hands as a grass widow.” 

“ Here ! let me get out of this ! ” exclaimed the earl, as 
he scrambled from the room; ‘‘six old maids talking his 
head off at the same time is too much for any man to 
endure. Kate ! give an eye to my things, there’s a good 
woman ; and Nell, you come with me and I’ll give you 
my orders about the haymakers.” 

And so saying. Lord Lisnor escaped from his torment- 
ors, and was almost glad of the necessity that took him 
away from his haymaking, but at the same time from 
them. Unmarried daughters who have reached the 
thirties are apt to make their voices heard too eloquently 
about a household. 

The earl’s arrival in Hill Street, though unexpected, 
was hardly a surprise. Macnaughten had said to his 
wife, before posting his letter : “You must be prepared 
for this news bringing your father up to London,” and 
she had replied : 

“It would make no difference to me if it brought the 
whole family up.” So that when the earl walked into 
her boudoir she received him with affection, but with no 
show of agitation or distress. 

“Well, my dear! and what is this all about?” he 
inquired, as he seated himself. 

“Did not Ronald explain it to you in his letter, 
papa ? ” 

“Oh, yes ! he told me that you had mutually agreed 
to separate, but I can’t believe it.” 

“It is quite true, papa ! We are only waiting until we 
have decided upon our plans. Ronald purposes going 
abroad, I believe, for a time, and I thought of going down 
to Sedgeley with Roy, until I have fixed upon a place of 
residence.” 

“But look here, my dear Phyllis, look here!” 
exclaimed the earl, “it must not be. It will be a public 
scandal— a disgrace. You must think of your sisters, 
my dear, and of me. We cannot have our names held up 
to ridicule and contempt, just because you choose to 
have a tiff with your husband. You must make it up 


234 


AT HEART A RAKE. 


again, I insist upon it. Kiss and be friends. That is 
the proper thing to do. Separate! Nonsense! ‘Those 
whom God hath joined together,’ you know, ‘let no man 
put asunder.’ ” 

“ My dear father, you don’t understand these things. 
You have vegetated so long at Sedgeley that you are all 
behind the world. There is no disgrace in what Ronald 
and I propose to do. We cannot live together in peace. 
We do not share our tastes, nor ways, nor manners. 
We want our freedom. Is it not far better that we 
should live in separate houses than be a nuisance to each 
other ? It is done every day — no one thinks anything of 
it. All that the world will say, will be, ‘There goes 
another fashionable couple ! ’ It isn’t a divorce — not even 
a legal separation. We have simply agreed to differ.” 

“Then you have ceased to care for each -other, I sup- 
pose. It is the usual ending of these violent love 
matches.” 

Lady Phyllis colored as she replied : 

“ I don’t see what ‘caring’ has to do with it. I have 
not ceased to esteem my husband, and I am not aware 
that he has discovered anything particularly repulsive in 
me. Only, we are not suited to each other. His Scotch 
ideas are old-fashioned, prosy, and didactic. Mine run 
with the times. He would have all married women find 
their whole pleasure in the kitchen and the nursery — 
I aspire to something higher and more intellectual. 
Voila tout ! ” 

“ Macnaughten is right and you are wrong ” com- 

menced the earl. 

“My dear father, if Macnaughten cannot convince 
me, you don’t suppose that you will. Why, you are twice 
as prosy as he is ; your ideas and mine are as wide apart 
as the spheres.” 

“Your mother, my dear Phyllis ” 

“My poor mother, father, seems to have had no ideas 
beyond sticking down at Sedgeley and bringing children 
into the world which you did not want. I dare say she 
would have been horrified at my resolution, had she been 
here. Mats autres temps, atih'es mceuf's^ you knovf. We are 
not living in the year One,” 


THE EARL REASONS IN VAIN 


235 


^‘So it appears, my dear ; still I can never give my con- 
sent to this separation. You know, Phyllis, that yoli had 
a hard task to gain my consent to your marriage ; for 
notwithstanding his wealth and position, I did not con- 
sider Macnaughten a good enough match for you.” 

‘‘Oh, that’s nonsense!” interrupted his daughter. 
“ Ronald is a gentleman ; and a king cannot be more. I 
am quite contented with him on that score ; indeed I 
think if you could get five other such husbands for my 
five sisters, you might consider yourself lucky. Ronald’s 
birth has nothing to do with this decision. It rests 
solely on our mutual incapability to make each other 
happy.” 

“ Then I absolutely oppose it,” replied Lord Lisnor. 

“I never thought of asking your consent, my dear 
father. It is a matter that concerns ourselves alone. 
And it is decided, once and forever. He would not 
have announced the fact to you, had it not been.” 

“Where is Macnaughten ?” demanded the earl. 

“In the house somewhere, I believe, but I will ring 
and inquire. It is some time now since we have taken 
our meals or accepted any engagements together,” said 
Lady Phyllis, smiling, as she rang the bell. 

“Is your master in the house?” she inquired of the 
footman who answered it. 

“ Yes, my lady — in the libery, my lady.” 

“ Tell him that Lord Lisnor is in my boudoir and ask 
him if he will be so kind as to join us.” 

“ Very good, my lady.” 

“A nice sort of marriage,” Lord Lisnor groaned, as 
the servant disappeared. 

“My dear father, it has not been a marriage for a 
long time past. You really must accustom yourself to 
that idea. It seems sudden to you, doubtless ; but it has 
been threatening to end like this for months. Ah, here 
is Ronald 1 ” continued Phyllis, as her husband entered 
the room. “Pray, Ronald, make my father understand 
that this resolution on our part is not a sudden one, but 
has been on the tapis for months past, and our present 
decision is but the culmination of it. I am afraid we 
have taken him too much by surprise.” 


236 


AT HEART A RAKE. 


“I should think it was a surprise, and a most unpleas- 
ant one,” said Lord Lisnor, as he shook hands with his 
son-in-law. “I couldn’t believe my eyes when I received 
your letter this morning, and I hastened to town in 
hopes of acting as a mediator between my daughter and 
yourself. But Phyllis tells me it is lost labor to attempt 
it, and that both your minds are irrevocably made 
up.” 

They are,” replied Macnaughten. “Lady Phyllis and 
I have come to the conclusion that it is the best thing 
we can do ; and when one has decided on the best, one 
can hardly better it.” 

“But is it the best?” questioned the earl, “for a 
young couple like yourselves to separate ? I should have 
said it was the very worst. How can a girl like Phyllis, 
only twenty-two, keep house properly by herself ? There 
will be a worse scandal before long if you do not take 
care.” 

“Oh, no, no ! I hope not— I am sure not ! ” exclaimed 
Macnaughten earnestly. “I can trust Phyllis implicitly 
with my honor and that of her child. Besides, she will 
have the protection of your name. Lord Lisnor, to appeal 
to, should anyone dare to question the reason for our 
separation.” 

“/ will never sanction it. She need not appeal to 
me,” said the earl. 

“Oh, yes ; you must ! Phyllis wishes to go down for a 
short time to the Manor, and I think it will be her wisest 
plan and am sure you will not refuse to receive her. 
That fact alone will stop a great deal of gossip, should 
there threaten to be any. At the worst, it will be but a 
nine days’ wonder. Such things are too common in this 
age. And no unpleasantness is to be put in comparison 
with our mutual happiness.” 

“Well, if it is to be, I suppose it is a waste of breath 
arguing with you both against it,” groaned the earl. 
“I conclude you will make my daughter an allowance 
suitable to her rank, Macnaughten?” 

At this apparent doubt. Lady Phyllis became indignant. 

“ Of course he will, papa. How can you allude to such 
a thing ? Surely you might leave the provision for my 


THE EARL REASONS IN FAIN. 237 

wants to my husband. He has never failed, at least, 
to give me everything that is necessary.” 

‘‘Phyllis does me no more than justice. Lord Lisnor,” 
said Macnaughten, with a faint smile. “Her require- 
ments will always be my first care. We had already 
settled about that. I intend to allow her two thousand 
a year, unless she should find that she requires more. 
But she believes that will be sufficient.” 

“Ample,” acquiesced his wife, “for I shall live quietly 
and only keep a brougham to go about in. I would not 
take a penny more, if you insisted on it.” 

“And when do you intend to separate ?” inquired the 
earl, seeing that his advocacy was lost upon them. “ If 
Phyllis wishes to reside at the Manor for a while, she 
had better return with me to-morrow. I cannot stay 
longer. The hay is not carried yet.” 

“Oh, it would be delightful to see the haymaking ! ” 
exclaimed Lady Phyllis; “I have not tossed a haycock 
for ages. And how Roy would enjoy it! Can I go to- 
morrow, Ronald ? If Louise can get me ready in time, 
is there any reason that I should remain here any 
longer ? ” 

“ No possible reason in the world,” replied Mac- 
naughten slowly; “indeed I think it would be better if 
you were out of the house before I put it in the agents’ 
hands.” 

“You mean to let it?” asked Lord Lisnor, with sur- 
prise. 

“Only because Lady Phyllis declines to occupy it,” 
returned Macnaughten. “ I should have preferred her 
doing so, it would have looked better in every way. But 
she fancies it would be too large and lonely for her 
smaller establishment.” 

“Oh, yes !” interposed his wife, with a shudder. “I 
wouldn’t stay here by myself. It was here we spent our 
honeymoon. When you have done with a thing, have 
done with it altogether. That’s my motto. I couldn’t 
settle down in this house by myself. I should always 
be expecting Ronald to walk in.” 

“Oh, avoid such a contingency, even in thought, ” 
cried Macnaughten, with a bitter laugh; “it would 


238 


AT HEART A RAKE. 


destroy all your piece of mind. No, we have quite 
decided to let the house, Lord Lisnor, and seek new 
quarters, where we shall find nothing to remind us of 
the past.” 

“And my daughter will then return with me to-mor- 
row ? ” said the earl. 

“Yes, papa, I will,” replied Phyllis. “I should like to 
take Roy into the country for the summer months, and it 
will give me time to think over my plans for the future. 
So, if you will stay with us for the night, I will accom- 
pany you to Sedgeley to-morrow afternoon. There is 
nothing left for me to do in London, now.” 

In saying this, it must not be supposed that Phyllis 
had forgotten her good intentions regarding Cissy 
Bernard. But all her efforts to discover her where- 
abouts had proved ineffectual. No one could tell her 
anything about her. Cissy had not communicated with 
her, and Captain Austin professed not to know anything 
about her — doubtless urged thereto by Cissy’s fears 
lest her husband should pursue her to her hiding-place. 
So that Lady Phyllis had no clew to her little friend, and 
had decided that she must wait until Cissy summoned 
up courage to communicate with her. Her father was 
therefore shown to a room, and in due course dined with 
his daughter and son-in-law — this being the first time 
that Macnaughten had appeared at his wife’s table for 
some months past. Lord Lisnor listened with surprise 
to the easy manner in which this young couple, so soon 
to be separated, presumably for life, conversed with him; 
showing no awkwardness or dislike toward each other, 
but remaining to all appearance on the most courteous 
and friendly terms. It was a new episode of fashionable 
life to the old man, and he listened to them with amaze- 
ment. He could not conceive two persons who had 
sworn to live together for life parting, unless there had 
arisen a profound aversion between them, and to see 
Phyllis smile as she addressed her husband, and Mac- 
naughten so assiduous in looking after her wants at table, 
made him wonder what was the necessity for a separa- 
tion between them. When the meal was concluded, 
Macnaughten slipped out of the house on business of 


THE EARL REASONS IN VAIN. 


239 


his own, and Phyllis had a long talk in the drawing 
room with her father, after which, however, he did not 
feel much wiser than before. He lifted up his hands in 
amazement when she told him of the Pushahead Club 
and various other innovations of which he had never 
heard, and said the sooner she was in the country the 
better. The old man was tired, however, with his un- 
usual exertions, and left her at an early hour, to dream 
of his haymaking and to wonder if his daughter Helen 
had carried out the instructions he had left with her. 

Lady Phyllis was still sitting, reading by the soft lamp- 
light, as it fell through a shade of crimson silk, when her 
husband re-entered the room. 

‘‘Has your father gone to bed?” he inquired. 

“More than an hour ago. He is tired, I fancy, with 
his journey.” 

“I suspected it would be so — that is why I returned 
home. I thought I should like to say good-by to you 
when you were alone.” 

“Good-by?” she repeated interrogatively. 

“Yes, I intend to leave the house to-night. I shall 
intrust you with my farewells to Lord Lisnor. I think 
he will sympathize with my feelings when I say that I 
would rather not remain here to see you quit the home 
to which I brought you. This is not a sickly sentimen- 
tality, but a feeling born of pride. My man packed my 
trunks to-day — I told him that I was going to Paris.” 

'^“And are you?” asked Phyllis. 

“What can it signify to you to know? Our com- 
munications for the future had better pass through the 
hands of our solicitors. Then we shall feel quite sure 
of not being intruded upon by each other in our private 
dwellings.” 

“You need have no such fears about me'' said Lady 
Phyllis, with a curled lip. “/am not likely to be desirous 
to disturb your domestic peace again.” 

“ Just so !” returned her husband, unmoved. “But 
we may as well make assurance doubly sure. My solici- 
tors, as you know, are Chippendale & Rule, of Lin- 
coln’s Inn Fields. They will have my orders to pay five 
hundred pounds into your bank each quarter day, and if 


240 


AT HEART A RAKE. 


you want more, you have only to let me know through 
them and it shall be forwarded you at once. Shall you 
continue to bank with the London and County ? ” 

‘‘Yes.” 

“ Have you ready money to go on with ? ” 

“Yes, yes! ” she answered impatiently. 

“ How much ? ” 

“How tiresome you are!” she exclaimed. “How 
should I know! Thirty or forty pounds, I believe. Any 
way it will be plenty. What shall I want with money 
down at Sedgeley ?” 

“I should not like you to run short, nevertheless,” he 
said gravely, as he took four notes from his pocket-book 
and laid them on the table; “there are fifty pounds 
more. If you do not actually require them for your 
own use, you will want to make your father and sis- 
ters some little presents in return for their kindness 
to you.” 

She had intended to reply to this speech with some 
pertness, but, before he had concluded, the consideration 
he was showing for her most trifling necessity made her 
ashamed of herself, and she took the notes with a low 
“ Thank you.” 

“And do you mean to employ the same solicitors as 
your father?” was his next question. 

“Yes, Mr. Arbuthnott of Chancery Lane,” she said. 

“Very good! Then, if there should be any need to 
write to you, I shall know where to send my letters. 
With regard to the child, it is settled between us, is it 
not ? that Reynolds is to bring him to see me once a 
week, wind and weather permitting, at any place that I 
may appoint. I am afraid we shall not be able to keep 
our separation a secret from our servants, Phyllis,” said 
Macnaughten wistfully. 

“I never thought we could,” she answered. “But 
how can I send Roy to see you while we are down at 
Sedgeley? ” 

“No, no! of course not — I could not expect it; and 
indeed I am not likely to be in London myself for some 
time.” 

She was curious to learn where he was going, but would 


THE EARL REASONS IN VAIN. 


241 


not let him think she took any interest in his proceed- 
ings, and so remained silent. 

“When I am once more settled,” resumed Macnaugh- 
ten, after a pause, “I will let you know through Mr. 
Arbuthnott. Then of course I shall be anxious to see 
my little boy, and Reynolds can bring him each week to 
the house of my sister, Mrs. Dallas, in Delamere Gar- 
dens, to meet me.” 

“I suppose you would be afraid of Reynolds having 
some disagreeable renconters at your bachelor apart- 
ments,” said Phyllis, “and reporting them to me.” 

“I think not,” he answered gravely. “I think, 
Phyllis, you may trust me as fully as I trust you.” 

“Oh, yes! of course, I was only ‘chaffing,’” said his 
wife, “you’ve always been a good enough boy in that 
respect, and I am quite willing to acknowledge it.” 

“Thanks,” he replied, but in a tone which seemed to 
signify that the time was past when her opinion made 
any difference to him. 

“And now,” he resumed, approaching her and hold- 
ing out his hand, “ I will wish you good-by. You know 
the true meaning of that word, Phyllis, is ‘God be with 
you.’ I can say that from my heart, for I shall never 
wish less than happiness and health and peace of mind 
to the mother of my child. Good-by.” 

Lady Phyllis took his hand with a little hysterical sob. 

“It is all very sad and a great pity,” she answered, 
“but I am sure it is for the best. Partings are always 
sad, even between mere acquaintances — there is some- 
thing solemn about them — but when'we have got over 
this one, we shall be all the happier for it. Good-by, 
Ronald.” 

She gave his hand an involuntary squeeze, as she 
released it, and Macnaughten was sorely tempted to kiss 
the sweet, flushed face raised to him. But he had 
resolved that if this thing was to be done, it must be 
carried through in a businesslike and practical manner. 
So he said in a tone of affected cheerfulness: 

“So that’s over, and you won’t forget my message to 
your father, will you ? Don’t let the old man think me 
churlish. Explain the reason of my leaving home to- 


242 


AT HEART A RAKE. 


night to him, and give him my best wishes. Perhaps, 
when the grouse are about, he may feel like running 
down to Roxburgh for a week or so. I suppose it’s not 
necessary for the whole family to cut me, because your 
ladyship has happened to change your mind. Well, once 
more, good-by.” 

And whistling to cover his distress, Ronald Macnaugh- 
ten ran downstairs and shortly after left the house. 

Lady Phyllis sat immovable for some time after he 
had gone. So it was over — really and truly over — and 
she was free once more to follow her own bent. It 
would be delightful work while at Sedgeley, planning 
what she could do, and where she should go, with her 
sister Nelly. But she could not help wondering where 
Ronald had gone for the night, and what he also intended 
to do. He might just as well have told her. It was like 
a man to keep it to himself. And he might have slept in 
his own house for the last night. What difference could 
it make ? Where was the use of paying at a hotel when 
he had a home of his own ? And as for not liking to 
see her leave, that was all affectation. Was he not as 
glad to regain his liberty as she was ? Most likely he 
had some sinister motive for wishing to say good-by so 
soon. Some of his friends, his beloved Leytons, most 
likely — had asked him for the evening, and he thought 
her father might take umbrage at his passing his last 
hours from home. Men had always some underhand 
reason for what they did. He was bent on some pleasure 
of his own, in which she had no share. And the idea 
was sufficient to bring the tears of mortification into 
Lady Phyllis’ eyes, though she told herself she was 
glad her husband had shown so little heart at the last, 
for it made their separation all the easier to bear. 


CHAPTER XVIIL 


IN THE HAYFIELDS. 

A WEEK after the events related in the last chapter we 
meet Lady Phyllis again, in her father’s hayfields. How 
lovely and free from care she seemed, as she chased her 
little son round the haycocks, and smothered him in 
heaps of new-mown grass. 

Lord Lisnor’s estate consisted chiefly of pasturage 
land, and the haymaking and carrying were great events 
with him. It was the ten-acre lot that was being carried 
on this occasion, and the vast area was besprinkled by 
men and women with huge wooden rakes, with which 
they turned and tossed the sweet-smelling masses. 

The earl was a stanch conservative in all things, and 
would have no newfangled inventions on his land. He 
affirmed that hay could never be so sweet when the grass 
was torn off by a mowing machine and raked up by 
rollers. Doubtless he was wrong, but gentlemen farmers 
are well-known to be very pig-headed in keeping to their 
own opinions. 

The whole household was turned out into the field on 
these occasions ; the cook being the only creature left to 
minister to the comfort of her fellows, and even she made 
her appearance there, every now and then, between the 
intervals of cooking, armed with cans of cold tea and 
tankards of beer for the refreshment of the laborers. 

Even the Ladies Powell did not disdain to take a rake 
and help in tossing the hay, and no one could have 
looked lovelier than Lady Phyllis Macnaughten, the 
pride of the flock, as with her chestnut hair surmounted 
by an old sun-bonnet of Lady Helen’s, beneath which 
her flushed face was colored like the heart of a rose. 


243 


244 


AT HEART A RAHE. 


she wielded the heavy rake and laughed at her futile 
endeavors to turn the haycocks properly. 

Roy, with Reynolds in attendance, kept close to her 
side, and every now and then she would fling down her 
rake, to catch her baby in her arms and cover his face 
with kisses. Roy was a sturdy young man of his age, who 
did not value these ebullitions of affection, but wriggled 
in his mother’s arms and cried : 

“ Don’t like tisses ! Come, mamma, race, race, race ! ” 
and would set off running as fast as his fat legs would 
carry him, as soon as his feet touched the ground. And 
then Phyllis would chase the little monkey till she had 
run him to earth in a haycock, where they would sink 
down together, screaming with laughter. 

Lord Lisnor, who was present, superintending all 
things, looked after the mother and child with a benev- 
olent smile ; Lady Helen was also glad to see her dear 
Phyllis so gay — only Lady Winifred, who was standing 
near, had something unkind to say about them. Lady 
Winifred was the least good-looking of the sisters. She 
‘‘favored his lordship ” as the servants said ; had sandy 
hair and a pimply complexion, and was in consequence 
the most disposed to find fault with her more fortunate 
sister. Lady Phyllis. 

“It appears to me to be most childish, not to say unbe- 
coming, in Phyllis to make such an exhibition of herself 
with that child,” she remarked sourly. “What is his 
nurse here for, if not to run about after him ? I think 
she might have a little more discretion. I dare say half 
the village knows the true story of her return to the 
Manor by this time, and she really might consider us a 
little.” 

“Would you have her not be happy then, even with her 
little child ? ” demanded Lady Helen. 

“By no means, but she surely need not romp all over 
the field like a great schoolgirl. I saw the bailiff look- 
ing at her just now, as if he couldn’t believe his eyes. 
She should remember that she is next door to a widow, 
and if she does not regret the lamentable circumstance, 
she should profess to do so.” 

“You are talking nonsense, Winny,” replied her sister. 


IN THE HAYFIELDS. 


245 


“ Of course she does not regret it. If she did, it would 
never have occurred. She appears to me to be quite 
happy ; much happier than when she came here last, and 
I hope she may continue so.” 

“ Oh, everything that Phyllis does must be right in 
your eyes, Nell. I believe, if she had killed her husband, 
you would have said: ‘Well, why shouldn’t she, poor 
dear, if she felt inclined to ?’ ” 

Lady Helen laughed at the ridiculous exaggeration. 

“Draw it mild, Winny,” she replied; “you are too 
fond of passing your judgment on things, before you have 
heard the cause of them. How do we know all the trifles 
that have gone to make up the sum of Ronald’s and 
Phyllis’ dissatisfaction with each other and their married 
life? These are matters which no one can judge of 
properly except the parties concerned, so that I think 
we have no right to pass an opinion upon them.” 

“But that is just what I complain of, and so do we 
all,” said Winifred, “ that Phyllis is so secretive about it. 
She surely might give her own sisters her reasons for 
taking such a step — not too creditable an one, as even 
you must allow. It reflects in a measure upon us, and 
therefore we have a right to know the why and where- 
fore.” 

“I don’t see that it is any business of yours at all. 
How do you know that Phyllis is not screening some fault 
of her husband’s by her reticence ? that Ronald is not the 
one to blame, and that Phyllis is generously taking half 
the censure on. her own shoulders. It would be just like 
her, if she did.” 

“Oh, of course you are on her side,” replied Lady 
Winifred scornfully, as she recommenced tossing the 
hay. “You were always ready to take her whippings 
from a child. But, in this instance, I fancy you will get 
yourself into the same scrape if you go too far.” 

Just then Lady Phyllis ran up, breathless and rosy with 
her exertions. 

“That boy will be the death of me, Nell,” she 
exclaimed. “ I am in a perfect fever.” 

“You look like it, Phyllis. You mustn’t exert your- 
self so much. Let Reynolds look after Roy, and sit 


246 


AT HEART A RAKE. 


down and rest. Will you have some buttermilk ? We 
have a jugful here. It is so cooling when you are 
warm.” She handed a glass to her sister as she spoke, 
and when Phyllis had drank it, she exclaimed: 

Oh, how too lovely the country is, after having been 
cooped up in town for so many months. Nell, I am half 
inclined to take a cottage here, and settle down near you, 
altogether. Wouldn’t it be very peaceful and nice ? ” 

“Very peaceful,” replied Nell, laughing, “especially 
in the winter, when you can’t walk out for the mud and 
the cart ruts ; and there are no amusements of any sort, 
and you must light the lamps at four o’clock in the after- 
noon and yawn away the hours till bedtime. When even 
Rose’s cantatas become a diversion, and Aunt Kate’s 
reading of Shakspere a delight. No, Phyllis, dear, the 
country is charming in haytime, but I don’t fancy you 
would enjoy it in winter.” 

Lady Phyllis sighed. 

“Perhaps you are right ; but sometimes I think that I 
should like having my own cows and pigs and cocks and 
hens. They must excite a certain interest and anxiety 
in one’s breast, and so few things contain interest in this 
life. I envy people who work in hospitals, or superintend 
soup kitchens, or sit for the elections on school boards.” 

“ But you have the working of your club to look after, 
Phyllis. It combines all sorts of usefulness, does it 
not?” 

“Oh, yes ; it professes to do so ; but do you know, 
Nell, I have been a little disappointed in*the Pushahead, 
because they seem to be able to do quite as well without 
me as with me. I don’t mean just at this moment, be- 
cause it is the recess and the committee will not sit again 
till September; but the whole system seems to be in the 
hands of two or three women, and the rest are simple 
nonentities. I imagined that we should have a voice in 
all matters pertaining to the ruling of the club, but I 
find it is a mere formality. The club itself is charming 
and all that could be desired, but it gives one no work to 
do, and what I want so much is work.” 

“You have a vote for everything, I suppose,” said 
Nelly. 


IN THE MAYFIELDS. 


247 


“Yes; but what is one vote against nineteen or twenty ? 
Still, if they act up to their principles in succoring such 
of their sex as need their assistance, I am proud to lend 
my name to the cause.” 

“It seems a strange thing to me that a lady should 
belong to a club at all,” remarked Lady Winifred, “and 
papa is of the same opinion.” 

“That is because neither papa nor you know any- 
thing about it,” replied Phyllis. “There are several 
ladies' clubs in London now, and they are very highly 
thought of.” 

“But with very few women of your birth and connec- 
tions belonging to them, I will undertake to say,” said 
her sister. 

Phyllis paused to think. Now that Winifred had started 
the idea she could not say that many, if any, titled women 
were members of the Pushahead or any other ladies’ club. 
The names of Lady Matthew Winterton and Lady Alex- 
ander Fox were on the tip of her tongue, but she forbore 
to mention them. She knew how these women were 
thought of among their own class, and though the Ladies 
Powell were much behind the world in fashionable 
and social matters, they had Debrett’s Peerage at their 
fingers’ ends, and knew the history of every titled family 
in the United Kingdom. So Lady Phyllis held her 
tongue about her club associates, and saying that she 
really did not know, and did not care, proposed that Helen 
should take a little stroll with her round the hayfield. 

The sisters made the circuit with their arms twined 
round each other’s waists. Here was one of the best and 
purest affections of Lady Phyllis’ life. Even her present 
circumstances seemed ameliorated by the fact that they 
had brought her once more within the ken of her younger 
sister. So long as she had Nelly and Roy, she told her- 
self, she would never be wholly unhappy. Already, and 
though but a week parted from her husband, and that by 
her own consent, Phyllis was beginning to tell herself 
that there were ameliorations to her lot. She had ex- 
pected certainly to feel more gay and at ease than she 
did ; thoughts would intrude themselves upon her mind 
as to how Ronald was faring ; if he missed her at all, or 


248 


AT HEART A RAKE. 


regretted the decision at which they had mutually arrived. 
But she shook the feeling off by telling herself that it was 
occasioned solely by the novelty of her situation, and 
that as soon as she had become accustomed to the idea of 
living alone and being her own mistress, she should begin 
to realize the improvement in her life. 

“ Nelly, darling,” she began, “I do feel it so good to 
be for a few weeks with you, that we may plot and plan 
together, where I shall settle down for the future, in what 
sort of house, and in what part of the town. I am in 
great hopes, dear, that it may concern you as well as 
myself. I am going to do all I can to persuade papa to 
let you come and live me. Do you think he will consent ? 
Would it not be delightful ? ” 

“ More than delightful, dear Phyllis ; so delightful, in 
fact, that ’I should be afraid to let my mind dwell on it 
from fear of disappointment.” 

“ Oh, we will not think of that, but do our very best to 
gain his consent. It would be better for me to have 
someone to live with me than to live alone. People 
wouldn’t talk so much then.” 

“Do you think that people will talk, Phyllis?” de- 
manded Nelly timidly. 

“ My dear, when do they not talk; in town especially? 
Why; Reynolds told me only last evening that the fools 
in Sedgeley are all saying that Ronald has run away from 
me with some other woman. Poor, good Ronald ! who, 
I honestly believe, has never looked at another woman in 
that way since he married me.” 

“It is very, very dreadful,” said Lady Helen; “why 
will people always make the worst of everything instead 
of the best ?” 

“ But see what a good example they have before them,” 
remarked her sister. “See how suspicious Camilla and 
Winifred and all of them, except you, my dear, good 
Nelly, are of me and my proceedings. They ‘ pump ’ me 
whenever they have an opportunity. Even Aunt Kate is 
not free from curiosity to learn if there is not something 
worse beneath this separation than mutual incompati- 
bility of temper. I know what they think — what, I was 
going to say, they hope to find — a Man ! ” 


IN THE HAVE/ELDS. 


249 


Oh, no, no, Phyllis, don’t say such an awful thing ! ” 
cried Lady Helen. 

do say it, my dear. I don’t mean that they would 
not be terribly shocked at the discovery ; but they have 
an idea there must be something too disgraceful to be 
revealed, either on Ronald’s part or mine, and that can 
only be something connected with the other sex. But 
they may look till Doomsday before they find anything, 
because it does not exist. They were always jealous of 
me and my marriage,” continued Phyllis, “and I can 
see they are pleased to think that I have had a downfall, 
as they call it, and would like to see me lower yet. But 
I shall disappoint them, Nell. I shall be happier in the 
future than I have ever been before. Two thousand a 
year is not bad pin-money for baby and me, and I mean 
to enjoy myself upon it. But never one of them crosses 
my threshold except you, darling, and you will ever be 
as welcome there as the flowers in May.” 

“ Dearest Phyllis,” replied Helen, squeezing her arm, 
“and where do you propose living?” 

“ In a flat somewhere ; near Kensington Gardens, I 
think, for Roy’s sake. And I shall make it so pretty, 
Nell. I shall only have about half a dozen rooms, you 
know, but they shall be gems. I am going to put the 
whole of the furnishing into Liberty’s hands. There is 
no one in London like him for good taste and elegance.” 

“But won’t you feel rather lonely, dear,” said Nell, 
“ with only baby and the servants ? ” 

“ Only baby and the servants ! ” echoed Lady Phyllis; 
“Bless my soul, Nelly, what are you thinking of? Do 
you imagine I am going to shut myself up and pass the 
rest of my life like a hermit ? No, indeed ! that is not 
what I have got my liberty for; I mean to be the gayest 
of the gay. Why not ? What is there to hinder me ? 
I can see whom I like and go about with whom I like. I 
am my own mistress, thank Heaven ! No one to grumble 
if poor little Cousin Percy lingers too long over after- 
noon tea, or Captain Herbert sends me tickets for the 
opera and asks if he may have the pleasure of escorting 
me there. No more black looks when I come back a few 
minutes lat6 for dinner, or attend a committee meeting 


250 


AT HEART A RAKE. 


when I am required at hame. Oh ! the loveliness of 
being a free agent — of being accountable to no one for 
your actions — it is the only desirable state on earth.” 

“ It is a pity you ever married; isn’t it, Phyllis ?” 

“ My dear child ! you forget my two thousand a year, 
to say nothing of Roy ! You are quite mistaken. I 
would not have missed the delight of owning Roy for 
anything in the world. Besides, an unmarried woman 
has no status in society. How can an old maid (or a 
young one, for that matter?) have any fun by herself. 
She must always have a chaperon. But I am as good as 
a widow, and yet enjoy all the privileges of a fefnme 
couverte. ” 

“But — but” — said Nelly hesitatingly. “Don’t be 
angry with me, Phyllis, darling — but doesn’t it seem just 
a little unfair to take the money to enjoy one’s self with, 
and — and — give him nothing in return ? He loses nearly 
half his income for nothing — and he inight have married 
a woman who would have lived with him, eh ? ” 

Lady Phyllis v/as just in that humor when plain speak- 
ing considerably disagreed with her. She withdrew her 
arm, almost roughly, from her sister’s waist, and com- 
menced to walk more rapidly toward where the rest of the 
party stood. 

“You have the most aggravating way, Nelly,” she 
replied, “ of saying unpleasant things at the wrong 
moments. Why should it be unfair ? When Ronald 
married me he pledged himself to support me, and because 
he makes himself so disagreeable that I cannot live with 
him in peace and quietude is no reason that he should be 
let off doing his duty. It is 7ny money as much as his — 
besides, if it were not so, he is bound to support his son, 
and he cannot take Roy from me, even if he wished to do 
so. The law provides against that. So that I really do 
not see where the unfairness comes in.” 

“ Poor Ronald ! ” said Lady Helen, in a low voice. 

“What do you say that for?” demanded her sister 
quickly. 

“ Because he loved little Roy so much, and it must be 
such a trial for him to give him up. And he loved you 
too, Phyllis, dearly — we used to laugh at him, poor fellow ! 


IN THE HAYFIELDS. 


251 


because he could not keep his eyes off you even at the 
dinner table. We have often said that we have never 
seen anybody so spoony as he was on you.” 

“Ah, well ! you see you have not had much experi- 
ence, so cannot be said to constitute the best of judges. 
Perhaps, the very effect of such intense spooniness is to 
make it evaporate all the sooner. Under any circum- 
stances, it does not seem to last long. I do not know a 
single woman of my acquaintance who does not confess 
that she is sick of marriage. Men are so disappointing 
when you see them close — they are so selfish and 
exigeant — so arbitrary and interfering — that I fancy few 
loves survive the honeymoon. Anyway, mine has fled 
‘like a beautiful dream,’” concluded Lady Phyllis, with 
a hard laugh. 

“I am so very, very sorry,” said Lady Helen, with a 
sigh. 

“By the way, Nelly, I made the acquaintance of a 
friend of yours just before I left town. Guess who it 
was.” 

“A friend of mine,” repeated Nelly, astonished, “but 
I have no friends in London, Phyllis.” 

“ Have you not ? I think you are mistaken. At least 
this gentleman told me that he was a friend of yours, 
though we had no opportunity to discuss the matter 
further. But I invited him to visit me as soon as I return 
to town, and then we may become a little more con- 
fidential.” 

“You cannot mean — Mr. Arbuthnott ! ” said Xady 
Helen, growing crimson. 

“I do then, and I admire your taste, Nell. Lady 
Fearon introduced him to me. He turns out to be the 
nephew of a great friend of hers, Mrs. Warrington ” 

“Oh ! his Aunt Dulcie ! — such a dear, good woman,” 
interrupted Nelly. 

“ So I understand, and I mean to cultivate her 
acquaintance when we meet in London. I cannot think 
why papa should make such strenuous objections to Mr. 
Frederick Arbuthnott. He is a rising man — Sir Richard 
Fearon thinks highly of his talents — he is making plenty 
of money, and will make much more. Lady Fearon tells 


252 


AT HEART A RAKE. 


me it is quite a favor to get him to accept a brief, he has 
won so many difficult cases. He is young too for a suc- 
cessful barrister, not over thirty — very nice-looking and 
a gentleman. Papa ought to jump at him. Heaps of 
commoners marry titled women nowadays. Indeed, now 
that the aristocracy look out for nothing but American 
heiresses or singers, what are we to do ? I am deter- 
mined to bring papa round to my way of thinking before 
I leave Sedgeley — indeed, that was my chief reason for 
coming here.” 

Lady Helen did not answer, but she turned and embraced 
her sister affectionately. 

They had nearly made the round of the field by this 
time, and reached the spot whence they had started, and 
the last feat which Lady Phyllis accomplished, was to 
take a running leap at a small haycock and clear it. A 
few adjacent haymakers laughed, not impudently but 
merrily, at the sight. Lady Winifred became indignantly 
reproachful. 

“ How can you do so unladylike a thing, Phyllis ? ” she 
exclaimed, “and all the laborers looking on the while. I 
am sure they have never seen one of us act in such a man- 
ner in their lives. It is quite an innovation in Sedgeley.” 

“So much the better for Sedgeley,” replied Phyllis, 
who had no idea of being called to task by her unmarried 
sisters; “it wants innovations. Besides, what do I care 
if any of you have jumped over a haycock, or not ? You 
can keep to your old-maidish ways if you like — I choose 
to folj^w my own.” 

“So it appears,” said Lady Winifred dryly, “or you 
would not be here. But, under the circumstances, Phyllis, 
do you not think that a little decorum would be more 
appropriate? You are very much in the same position as 
a widow, remember.” 

“Fiddle-de-dee!” cried Phyllis irreverently; “widow 
indeed ! Nothing half so good. If I were a widow, I 
should have all Ronald’s money instead of a third. And 
if I were a widow, I should skip over two haycocks at 
once, so that’s all you know about it.” 

“Your remarks are positively indecent!” murmured 
Lady Winifred as she returned to her haymaking. 


IN THE MAYFIELDS. 253 

At this juncture Lady Camilla approached them, 
flushed, angry, and full of complaints. 

“Phyllis!” she commenced, in a forcible tone, “what 
am I to do about that maid of yours, Louise ? Here, she 
is nearly hysterical, because it is Friday, and I have no 
fish for her dinner. It is most awkward having servants 
of different persuasion at the same table. Ours would 
not eat fish to save their lives. They consider it quite 
sufficient insult to be asked to sit down with a Papist.” 

“Let Louise take her dinner into the pantry,” replied 
Phyllis curtly. 

“ But I have no fish for her ! There is none to be 
had nearer than' Hillford.” 

“ Give her a couple of eggs then,” said her sister; “we 
don’t make any fuss over our servants in town. If they 
don’t like what is put before them, they can go with- 
out.” 

“ We never had a Papist in the house before you brought 
Louise here,” remarked Camilla grumblingly. 

“ I wonder at your caring to keep one under your own 
roof, Phyllis,” interposed Winifred; “the child might be 
tampered with and perverted to Popery before you know 
where you are. It is most unsafe. How do you know 
that she is not a female Jesuit, or a spy in the service of 
some of the cardinals. One can never be sure of Papists. 
Murder is justifiable in their eyes, so long as it is done 
for the sake of Holy Mother Church.” 

“Winifred, don’t talk about what you know nothing 
of ! ” replied Phyllis impatiently. “ Well, Reynolds ! and 
what is it ? ” To the nurse. 

“ If you please, my lady, while Lady Camilla is on the 
subject, would you be so good as to tell her that I cannot 
allow Master Roy to eat pork, as it does not agree with 
him ? ” 

“Very well. By the way, Camilla, can Roy have a 
little chicken, or something digestible for his dinner to- 
day ? Pork doesn’t suit him, and Reynolds objects to 
his eating it.” 

“Your servants generally do object to anything that 
may be set upon the Manor House table, Phyllis,” 
remarked Camilla sourly, “but of course, if the child is 


254 


AT HEART A RAKE, 


SO sickly that he cannot digest ordinary food, something 
else must be procured for him.” 

“Begging your ladyship’s pardon,” interposed the 
indignant Reynolds, “ Master Roy Macnaughten is any- 
thing but sickly. He’s as fine a child of his age as you’ll 
see anywhere, but no baby of three years old can eat 
pork and suchlike rich food with impunity. He never 
had it in his papa’s house, nor he shan’t nowhere, if I can 
prevent it.” 

“There, there, nurse, that will do!” exclaimed 
Phyllis. “You can’t expect Lady Camilla to know all 
about babies. It would be highly improper if she 
did.” 

“I shall have to ask papa about the chickens,” said 
Camilla, wisely ignoring the last sally, “for I don’t know 
if he has any fit to kill. The spring chickens are over, 
and the pullets and capons are not yet put up for fatten- 
ing. This is the laying time, you know.” 

“I will send into Hillford and buy a couple,” said 
Lady Phyllis. “ Pray, don’t let there be any fuss about 
Roy’s feeding. Cold mutton does as well for him as 
anything.” 

“ It would hardly seem so, from the trouble he gives,” 
muttered Lady Camilla, as she sauntered back to the 
Manor House. 

“Nell, I shall very soon have had enough of this,” 
whispered Phyllis in her sister’s ear. “ I cannot stand 
Camilla’s and Winifred’s continual fault-finding. They 
make such a trouble of everything ! No one would 
imagine I was staying in my own father’s house,” 

“Oh, you mustn’t leave us yet a while, darling!” 
replied Nelly sympathetically. “They are horrid, I 
know, but it is their way. They are never satisfied with 
anything. Camilla is growing a regular old maid. She 
saves every penny she can, and is always complaining 
that we eat too much, or winking at us not to take a sec- 
ond helping, for fear there will not be sufficient left to 
make another day’s dinner.” 

“I’m afraid papa’s affairs must be in a bad way, to 
necessitate so much economy,” said Phyllis thoughtfully, 
“ or does he know how Camilla goes on ? I would rather 


IN THE MAYFIELDS. 


255 


pay him for my keep while here than be subject to such 
remarks as she made just now.” 

“ Oh, papa would never consent to that, Phyllis ! He 
would be horrified at the mere idea, and ask if you mis- 
took him for an innkeeper. But” — lowering her voice — 
“I do think sometimes that he is worried about money 
matters. You see, farming is such uncertain work, and 
when Mr. Arbuthnott was here I overheard some hints 
dropped about a failure in Mexican mines. I fancy 
papa’s private income was in some mines. I wonder if 
they have gone to smash ? ” 

“I wonder, too,” said Phyllis; ‘‘also, if anything is 
wrong, that papa does not let Mr. Frederick Arbuthnott 
see about getting it righted, for, between you and me, I 
believe his father will never be good for much again, and 
I know nothing about Grant. Lady Fearon told me that 
old Arbuthnott had had a stroke of paralysis, or some- 
thing of the sort, and the firm may be muddling the 
business away. I shall ask my father plump if anything 
is wrong, and why he does not make a greater friend of 
young Arbuthnott.” 

“Oh, Phyllis, how brave you are!” cried Nelly ad- 
miringly. “ I wish that I had half your pluck.” 

“That comes of being married, my dear,” replied her 
sister, laughing. “We shall see you plucky, too, when 
you shall have been Mrs. Arbuthnott for a couple of 
years.” 

' “Your experience has not left me much pluck to 
become Mrs. Arbuthnott or Mrs. Anybody Else,” said 
Nelly sadly. 

The Ladies Powell seemed bent upon teasing their 
sister Phyllis, as if she had no right to re-enter her 
father’s house, and was an intruder among them, much as 
the kittens of an earlier brood might receive a sister cat, 
born a few months later. They were still jealous of her 
lot. Two thousand a year for pin money seemed an 
enviable portion to them, even though it was not accom- 
panied by the burden of a husband. Indeed, after the 
fashion of their sex, these young ladies, who had been so 
ready to depreciate their untitled brother-in-law, were 
quite as ready now to lament his loss, and to believe 


256 


AT HEART A RAKE. 


their sister must have been in the wrong to let him go. 
They had been dreadfully afraid before that their 
ancient and unsullied name would suffer from connec- 
tion with a commoner, and now they were afraid lest 
it should suffer from Phyllis having a separation from 
him. They declared that it would prove an insurmount- 
able obstacle to their own marriages, and they should 
have to settle down for life as old maids, just because 
Phyllis chose to be so selfish and think of no one but 
herself. They had not yet been able to get at the root 
of the matter, and learn the true reason why Mac- 
naughten and his wife had elected to part; the earl’s 
monosyllabic replies, when they questioned him, being 
most unsatisfactory, and Lady Phyllis herself holding 
her tongue on the subject. But they were her sisters, 
they argued, and had a right to know, and so they gath- 
ered round her that evening. Lady Catherine included, 
determined not to let her go until she had told them the 
whole truth. 

There was no need, in their estimation, to stand on any 
ceremony, and Lady Mary, who was more curious, if pos- 
sible, than the rest, opened the ball abruptly : 

“Phyllis, you have never had time, apparently, to tell 
us the history of your separation from Mr. Macnaughten. 
We wish you would do so now. We feel that you owe us 
an explanation of a matter which concerns us all.” 

“Does it?” said Lady Phyllis quietly. “In what 
way ? ” 

“Well, in every way. Mr. Macnaughten is our 
brother-in-law as well as your husband.” 

“ A brother-in-law whom you took every opportunity 
to run down and make little of,” she replied. 

Lady Mary tossed her head. She had a small button 
nose, like that of the earl, and when she tossed her head 
she did not look dignified. 

“We certainly did not consider that you married your 
equal ; no one could do that. Still you married him, and 
no wife should leave the protection of her husband with- 
out sufficient reason. Don’t you agree with me. Aunt 
Kate ? ” 

“Oh, certainly, my dear!” said Lady Catherine. 


IN THE HAYFIELDS. 


257 


“ Marriage is, as we all know, a very solemn obligation, 
and cannot be lightly thrown aside without grave scan- 
dal. I am sure our dear Phyllis must think the same.” 

‘‘ But who says that I have thrown it lightly aside ?” 
asked Phyllis. 

“Well,” interposed Lady Camilla, “you give us all 
reason to think so when you return home without any 
satisfactory explanation why you have parted with your 
husband, whether it was his fault or yours, and whether 
it is for a time only or forever.” 

“There is no explanation to give,” replied her sister 
lightly. “ Ronald and I choose it shall be so, and, since 
it concerns no one but ourselves, I cannot acknowledge 
your right to demand one.” 

“But it does concern us,” said Lady Winifred. “It 
might be very prejudicial to our own chance of marriage 
to have a sister in a position which is only next door to 
that of a divorcee. Men do not, as a rule, consent to part 
with half their fortunes and their wives at the same time 
unless there has been something unpleasant between 
them — something to be hushed up in order to prevent an 
open scandal.” 

Lady Phyllis’ proud blood rushed to her face and brow, 
and she was about to retort angrily when Lady Helen 
interposed : 

“I hardly think you can be aware of the insinuation 
conveyed by your words, Winifred. If there is anything 
to conceal, it is certainly not on Phyllis’ side. She may 
be consenting to this separation in order to screen 
Ronald, but ” 

“Stop, Nelly !” exclaimed Phyllis. “You are doing 
my husband an injustice by the suspicion. He has done 
nothing necessitating concealment ; he has been a faith- 
ful husband to me from the day we married. No one 
shall say a word against him in my presence ! ” 

“This partisanship makes the matter more mysterious 
than ever,” observed Lady Mary. 

“ Perhaps so ; but it is true. There is no reason what- 
ever for our separation but one — we choose it shall be so. 
And that is the only reason that you will ever get out 
of me.” 


258 


AT HEART A RAKE. 


“Then we are to think what we like,” said Caniilla. 

“Exactly, and I shall do what I like,” replied her 
sister proudly. “There is not one of you here that has 
been married — I was going to say engaged — but I believe 
you were once engaged for three weeks, Camilla, to 
Lord Brereton, who jilted you for Dorothy Cheston, the 
actress. I was such a child at the time that the story 
only reached my ears in fitful whispers, but it was the 
case, was it not ? ” 

But Lady Camilla’s only answer was conveyed by her 
suddenly rising and quitting the apartment. 

“How unkind of you to allude to poor Camilla’s 
trouble,” said Mary reproachfully ; “and when you know 
that she has never forgotten that bad, faithless man ! ” 

“ Hasn’t she really?” said Phyllis, with uplifted brows, 
“lam sure it is time she did. Lady Brereton has six 
children, I believe; but if I am unkind in mentioning an 
affair of years ago, how about her probing my wound of 
yesterday ? Isn’t that much more cruel ? ” 

wound ! said Winifred sarcastically. “When 
you were leaping sky-high over those haycocks this morn- 
ing ? No one who saw you, Phyllis, would believe that 
you were wounded, either in mind or body.” 

“ Ah ! that’s the way the world judges,” replied Phyllis, 
with mock seriousness. “ People have different ways of 
expressing their grief, you see. Some take it out in weep- 
ing and sighing, / relieve mine by jumping over haycocks. 
I find it an immense relief to my feelings, a kind of mix- 
ture between crying and dancing.” 

“If you cannot speak of such things without levity, 
Phyllis,” sniffed Lady Mary, “I thinkwe had better not 
speak of them at all.” 

“ You have arrived at it at last, have you ? ” exclaimed 
Lady Phyllis. “That is exactly what I have been driv- 
at all through — to make you hold your tongue. You 
must see plainly that I do not intend to repose any con- 
fidence in you, so that it is indelicate to try and extract 
it from me as you do. As Aunt Kate justly observed, 
marriage is a solemn thing, sacred to the people who 
engage in it, and not intended to be shared by the com- 
mon crowd, so you must be content in this instance to 


IN THE HAYFIELDS. 


259 


know the fact, and leave the cause alone. When Ronald 
and I meet, as doubtless we shall meet, at the houses of 
our mutual friends, he shall not have it in his power to 
taunt me with having spread the story of our little 
failure far and wide. And as for its interfering with your 
own marriages, I don’t think you need be afraid of that, 
but should such a dilemma arise, just send the man to 
me, and I promise you he shall receive so satisfactory an 
explanation as to send him rejoicing away to buy the 
wedding ring at once.” 

Her sisters did not like the bold way in which she 
silenced them, but they had no remedy, so were com- 
pelled to submit, and to no one but Lady Helen did 
Phyllis ever confide the reason that she parted from 
Ronald Macnaughten. 


CHAPTER XIX. 


nelly’s lover. 

The Ladies Powell, with the exception of Lady Cathe- 
rine and Lady Helen, continued to make Phyllis’ visit to 
Sedgeley Manor as unpleasant as they knew how ; and 
notwithstanding that Roy was enjoying himself without 
measure in the hayfields, she determined to leave on the 
earliest opportunity and seek quarters elsewhere. But 
she had a deep design to accomplish first; one for which 
she would have endured more desagremins than her sisters’ 
sarcastic remarks and insinuations could afford her ; and 
that was, if possible, to reconcile her father to Nelly 
marrying Mr. Arbuthnott. 

Lady Phyllis was, as has been stated before, the earl’s 
favorite daughter. He was proud of her beauty and 
intelligence, and there was a sympathy between them 
which did not exist between him and his elder children. 
So when Phyllis found that Camilla and Mary and the rest 
were resolved to make the house too hot to hold her, she 
took to wandering over the farm, linked to her father’s 
arm, and doing her best to make him confide his money 
troubles, if any, in her. 

One morning she led the conversation thus : 

You have a good many head of cattle this year, papa. 
Are all these for the London market?” 

“Yes, my dear ! The poor beasts are all destined to 
figure at the Christmas dinners. That’s a beauty, with 
the black spots, isn’t he ? I think I must keep him for 
home consumption.” 

“ You must make a lot of money by your farm, papa ? ” 

The earl sighed. 

“ No, my dear ; I wish I did. But what with rearing 
and fatting, there doesn’t remain much profit for the 

260 


NELLY S LOVER. 


261 


farmer. And it is so uncertain a game, into the bargain. 
I am glad I never dabbled in agriculture. The agricul- 
turists have been complaining sadly this year. But 
pasturage is pretty certain, on the whole. I suppose I 
ought to be thankful that I have that to fall back upon.” 
And again he sighed. 

‘‘Why do you sigh like that, dear old papsy?” asked 
his bonnie Phyllis, squeezing his arm and gazing up into 
his ruddy face. “Is anything wrong with the farm? or 
anything else? You’re not sighing o\tv me, I hope, as 
Camilla and Mary spend their days in doing.” 

“No, no, my darling!” said her father, laughing. 
“ I think you’re quite able to look after yourself, and so 
long 3.^ you don’t sigh, I shall never waste any over you. 
What made you think of such a thing ? ” 

“ Because I don’t like to think that you have any worse 
trouble than I have,” replied his daughter. “There is 
nothing else to sigh for? is there, father?” 

“Well, my dear ! perhaps I am foolish to worry about 
them, but things might be better than they are with us 
at present. I will tell you in confidence, Phyllis, but 
don’t let it go any farther, my dear — for if those silly geese 
inside got wind of it, they’d cackle it all over the village — 
that my silver mines in Mexico have proved a failure, or 
are likely to do so, from water getting into them or some 
disaster of that sort. And all my private fortune — little 
enough, my love — is locked up in those mines, the Cold- 
stream, they’re called ; and not being able to see after 
matters myself, well ! I really don’t know how it will all 
end.” 

“ But, father, you must have advice at once. What 
does Mr. Arbuthnott say about it ? ” 

“Mr. Arbuthnott has been laid up for some months, 
I’m sorry to say, and there does not seem much likeli- 
hood of his getting about again. Sometimes I think I 
had better change my solicitors, for the other partners do 
not appear half sharp to me. And, as you say, if any- 
thing is to be done, I should have sound advice.” 

“But you know Mr. Frederick Arbuthnott, do you not, 
papa ? old Arbuthnott’s son ? ” 

A frown immediately spread over the earl’s features. 


262 AT HEART A RAKE. 

“ I have met the young man, but I don’t like him. 
He is an insuiferable prig, puffed up in his own conceit. 
I would rather go by my own advice than his.” 

“ Oh, you prejudiced old man ! ” cried Phyllis merrily. 
“Why, you must have looked at him with your eyes 
shut. He is one of the cleverest, most rising young 
barristers in town. My friend Sir Richard Fearon says 
he will live to sit upon the Woolsack.” 

“ Indeed ! on what premises does he go ? ” 

“On his own judgment, papa, and the opinion of all 
London. Since the Torrington trial, Mr. Frederick 
Arbuthnott cannot accept the briefs that he is asked to 
hold. I don’t know if he could act for you, but I am sure 
he could give you sound advice about this matter, and 
perhaps save your money into the bargain. You would 
not like to be entirely dependent on your farming; would 
you, papa ? ” 

“Indeed I should not. It becomes less profitable 
every year. And, Phyllis (though I shouldn’t like them 
to hear that I said so), it is a heavy burden to a man in my 
position to have five unmarried daughters on my hands. 
If I were alone, or had only one or two at home, we 
might get on well enough — but five, my dear, five! It is 
more than the fair share of any man.” 

“ And yet, when you have an opportunity to get one of 
them taken off your hands, you show the poor man the 
door, papa,” said Phyllis slyly. 

“I don’t know what you are alluding to, my dear,” 
replied the earl, growing red. 

“Oh, yes ! you do, daddy, so it’s no use denying it. 
Poor Nelly told me all about it, last time I was down 
here, and that is what determined me to make the 
acquaintance of Frederick Arbuthnott, and judge for 
myself. Now, why did you do it, papa? What possible 
objection can you have to this young man ?” 

“What possible objection?” began the earl, fuming; 
“a thousand objections. He has no birth, no name, no 
prospects, and no money. What more do you want ? 
He is not a fit husband for your sister. It was like his 
insufferable impudence to ask me for her.” 

“You’re wrong all round, papa. You got in such a 


NELLY’S LOVER. 


263 


rage that you never stopped to make any inquiries about 
him. Mr. Arbuthnott is a gentleman; his mother was 
the daughter of Sir Edward Cowley — his aunt Mrs. War- 
rington is connected by marriage with the Thellusons and 
Bellalys’ families. Of course he has no name yet — what 
man has at thirty — but he is rising rapidly. He is making 
plenty of money even now; enough to buy up our 
beggarly family, over and over again; and as for pros- 
pects, he is sole heir to his aunt’s money, which is a tidy 
fortune, if not a colossal one. But, father, so long as a 
man has sufficient to keep your daughter in comfort, why 
should you make such a point of money ? Why should 
you expect it ? You have none to give with her. If my 
mother’s father had been as particular, would you ever 
have married her ? And after all, has it any effect upon 
happiness ? Look at me. I made one of the wealthiest 
matches of the season, yet here I am — alone, with only 
the money to compensate me.” 

“ Your own fault, my dear — entirely your own fault ! ” 
exclaimed Lord Lisnor. 

“I believe Nelly would have been quite happy and 
contented with Mr. Arbuthnott,” replied Lady Phyllis, 
ignoring her father’s remark. “ He is a good son and 
nephew, and an honorable, hard-working, clever man — 
what can anyone desire more ? And you should consider 
Nelly, too, papa. You have made the poor girl very 
unhappy by your decision, and missed getting rid of one 
of your encumbrances.” 

The earl was silent, and Phyllis took advantage of his 
mood. 

“There is another side to the question,” she went on; 
“you are not immortal, daddy, dear; and though your 
children will keep you among them as long as ever they 
can, younger men than yourself die and leave their 
families unprovided for. If farming does not permit of 
any saving, and your silver mines are in so cranky a con- 
dition, what is to become of my sisters in case of your 
death ? Aunt Catherine cannot be expected to maintain 
them. Her little income is barely sufficient for herself, 
but if there were two or three married ones among us, 
we might easily keep the rest. You have never allowed 


264 


AT HEART A RAKE. 


me to have Nelly to stay with me, which is very short- 
sighted of you, for in my house she might have met 
several men better suited to your ideas of a son-in-law 
than Mr, Arbuthnott; but though I cannot keep the 
establishment I did my invitation to her is still open, if 
you will let her return to London with me. Now do^ papa, 
for the girl’s sake; let her come to me for a few months, 
and see what I can do for her. They have none of them 
ever had a chance, you know.” 

“Well ! Phyllis, my dear, it is very good of you to think 
of your sisters in this way, and I will consider the matter 
before you leave us — I will indeed.” 

“ But you must be prepared for one thing,” continued 
Phyllis archly, “ that I am not going to forbid Frederick 
Arbuthnott the house, just because Helen may be there. 
I don’t want to deceive you, papa, and have a quarrel 
about it afterward, and so I tell you that she must take 
her chance. Perhaps he may never moot the subject of 
marriage to her again; you may have wounded his pride 
too much; you have a nasty way of putting things some- 
times, you know; but if he does, and she accepts him, you 
must give your consent to their marriage; if not, I shall 
go and see them married in the nearest church myself, 
for I won’t have Nelly’s happiness trifled with. Better 
she should not visit me at all than that.” 

“You are a saucy jade, Phyllis,” said the earl, half 
smiling, “and deserve a box on the ears for talking to 
your old father in this way. But I will think of it — I 
can’t promise more than that. I will consider the matter 
carefully, for I confess you have put it in a more favor- 
able light to me — and if your sister goes to stay with you, 
it shall be with my consent to do as she sees fit, in case 
of Mr. Arbuthnott renewing his proposals.” 

“ That’s a dear ! ” said Phyllis encouragingly, “ though 
I’m not at all sure that he will ever broach the subject 
again. He is a Scotchman like my wretch, and Scotch- 
men, when once offended, are very hard to conciliate. 
But all this has nothing to do with your silver mines. 
Now, papa, do take my advice and consult someone with 
regard to them without delay. Just think what it would 
be, if you were to die unexpectedly and leave my poor 


NELLY'S LOVER. 


265 


sisters penniless. Put your pride in your pocket and 
consult young Arbuthnott, or let me do so on your behalf. 
Will it require more money than you have by you at the 
moment ? If so, let me lend it you, papa. I have far 
more than I want for my needs, and you can have a thou- 
sand if you like — Ronald will advance it me in a moment, 
if it will be of any use to you.” 

She looked into the earl’s face, as she spoke, with her 
earnest eyes glistening with affection and anxiety, and he 
turned and kissed her pretty, flushed cheek. 

“No, my darling ! ” he replied, with unwonted warmth, 
“ thank you all the same for your generous offer. If 
money is required, old Arbuthnott will raise it for me, 
and under any circumstances I could not accept a favor 
from the man who has made my girl unhappy.” 

“Whom do you mean ? ” she cried quickly. 

“ Macnaughten, to be sure. Who else ? You try to 
hide it, Phyllis, but I can see plainly that you are not so 
heedless of this affair as you pretend to be — that it is not 
so pleasant as you profess to find it, to be as good as 
widowed at two-and-twenty.” 

“ Oh, papa, what a ridiculous mistake ! ” exclaimed 
Lady Phyllis, with a peal of laughter, “what will you say 
next ? Why, I’m just as happy as the day is long. I am 
plotting, morning, noon and night, of the jolly use I shall 
make of my liberty as soon as I am settled in town again. 
I haven’t had half enough fun in my life yet. I mean to 
run about like a girl let loose ffom school. You just 
wait and see.” 

“ That is just what I mean to do — wait and see. I am 
sure you will not be able to endure this state of things 
for long. It is unnatural, unwomanly, and altogether 
wrong. But while it lasts, my girl, be careful for your 
own sake and Macnaughten’s, and for the sake of your 
pure, good mother, who never had a thought beyond her 
husband and her children. Ah, Phyllis ! I have often 
thought lately that if she had been spared to us, this 
would never have been.” 

“Dad,” said Lady Phyllis, in a low voice, “am I 
making you unhappy ? ” 

“I am not happy about it, my dear, and I cannot 


266 


AT HEART A RAKE. 


say that I am. But doubtless you and Macnaughten 
know your own business best, and I would never inter- 
fere between man and wife. But it is all very different 
from what it was in my day.” 

Phyllis did not answer, but walked by the earl’s side, 
thoughtful and silent. Presently she heard little Roy’s 
voice as he raced over the daisy-besprinkled lawn with 
his nurse, shouting in his glee. She immediately ex- 
pressed a desire to join her child. It seemed a relief to 
her, to get away from her father at that moment. So 
she waved the earl a smiling adieu, and ran away to join 
Roy. 

Phyllis did not mention a word to Nelly of what had 
passed between her father and herself concerning Mr. 
Arbuthnott, but she did tell her that there was just a 
chance that she might have her as a visitor when she 
returned to London, and her sister became so excited at 
the mere idea that Phyllis was glad that she had not told 
her more. Lady Helen began to speak of all the people 
she was likely to meet there, and in the course of con- 
versation, she lit upon the name of Mrs. Bernard. 

Phyllis had not mentioned poor Cissy in the family 
circle, knowing well that she would receive but scant 
shrift at the hands of her elder sisters; but now that Nelly 
had introduced the subject, she told her in confidence of 
the sad fate of the poor little woman. 

She related the story with more pity than blame for the 
principal actors concerned in it, and was taken by sur- 
prise at seeing the unqualified horror with which Nelly 
listened to it. 

“ Cissy, Cissy Brandon, whom we know — run away 
from her husband, and with another man ! ” she gasped, 
with dilated eyes. “ Oh, no ! Phyllis, you are joking with 
me; it is impossible — too horrible — you must have 
been deceived.” 

“Indeed I am not,” replied her sister, “everybody 
knows it to be true. But I can’t blame her, Nelly. The 
principal reason for this difference between Ronald and 
myself is that I took Cissy’s part. She was most un- 
happy at home — she had no sympathy or affection, and 
a brutal husband who denied her the simplest pleasures 


NELLY'S LOVER. 


267 


natural to her age — what would you have had the poor 
child do ? She could not have gone on living a life like 
that. There was no other way open to her in order to 
escape. I consider she was forced into the situation, and 
that she was quite justified, under the circumstances, in 
acting as she did.” 

“Oh, Phyllis, Phyllis!” exclaimed Nelly, still in that 
voice of unaffected horror. 

“My dear little goose, what a fuss to make about it ! 
After all, right or wrong, every woman has the option 
of choosing her own life. If she suffers, she suffers 
alone — and no one has a right to interfere with her idea 
of happiness.” 

“ Phyllis, that is false reasoning. There can be but 
one right way and one wrong. The choice is not left to 
us. God has pointed out the way in which we should go. 
Cissy has sinned terribly — terribly ! It has shocked me 
more than I can say.” 

“ My dear child, I had no notion you were such a 
Methodist. You will astonish some of the London ladies 
if you air such old-fashioned ideas before them. Of 
course it is wrong — very wrong, indeed — no one denies 
that; still, circumstances alter cases, and in this instance 
I consider there is a great mitigation of the offense in 
consequence of Colonel Bernard’s cruelty to his wife.” 

“Nothing can alter sin,” said Lady Helen gravely. 

“ You are quite right. I acknowledge that, but you 
will not find a single proof that God considers one sort 
of sin more iniquitous than another; so if we are to con- 
demn every woman who leaves her husband, we should 
also, in order to be consistent, condemn every man who 
is unfaithful to his wife, or who drinks too much, or 
swears, or leads a dissolute life in any way.” 

“ Of course. But don’t people condemn them ? ” 

“ Oh, my dear innocent ! you are too refreshing. Why 
you will trip over them in London at every step you take. 
Dissipated men and women : men who swear and gamble — 
women who lie and backbite — human creatures of all 
descriptions, who have no more thought of God in them, 
or honor, or charity, or religion, than the table we sit at. 
When I look at my acquaintance, and see what they are 


268 


AT HEART A RAKE. 


and remember what they have done, poor little Cissy 
Bernard seems like a snow-white lamb beside them, 
though she has been silly enough to jump from the frying 
pan into the fire, by exchanging the protection of Colonel 
Bernard for that of Captain Austin.” 

‘‘It is very shocking,” repeated Nelly, “but their 
wickedness doesn’t make Cissy’s sin the less repre- 
hensible.” 

“Come,” said Lady Phyllis, after a pause, “let us 
talk of something else. I see that I must initiate you 
into such things more gradually, Nell; or you will refuse 
to stay with me at all. The devil is never so black as 
he’s painted, you know, my dear; and in like manner, I 
may have depicted my friends as worse than they really 
are. You will see them before long, I hope, and then 
you can judge for yourself. We both know that there is 
at least one immaculate young man among them — Mr. 
Frederick Arbuthnott.” 

“ Oh, Phyllis ! if papa ever allows me to visit you, it 
will only be on condition that I never meet him.” 

“ Do you think so ? Well, perhaps you are right. But 
I do not intend to give Mr. Arbuthnott his congi all the 
same. He has been admitted to my house, and so long 
as he behaves himself, he will be welcome there. If you 
da come to me, Nelly, I will make it right with the pater 
some way.” 

“Oh, Phyllis, darling! if you only could!*' exclaimed 
Lady Helen, in a fervor of gratitude. 


CHAPTER XX. 


LADY PHYLLIS RESIGNS. 

In six weeks more Lady Phyllis Macnaughten left 
Sedgeley Manor for London, armed with a promise that, 
as soon as she was ready to receive her, Nelly should pay 
her a visit. She parted with her family in the highest 
spirits — delighted to leave the place which had been made 
so uncongenial to her, and wild at the prospect of being 
once more settled in a home of her own. She established 
herself at Harrington’s Hotel until her arrangements 
should be completed, whence the following letter to her 
sister Helen will best show how she occupied herself. 

“ My Darling Nell : 

I have secured the loveliest flat you ever saw in your 
life, in the Kensington Palace Mansions. Eight good 
rooms, and only two hundred a year. It is dirt cheap, 
not half its real value, but Colonel Thelwick who oc- 
cupied it has just lost his wife, and cannot bear the sight 
of the place, so was glad to get it off his hands at any 
sacrifice. He only had it done up last year for his mar- 
riage, and now she is gone and her baby, too. Isn’t it 
sad ? I have taken it for the remainder of the lease, six 
years, and am now in all the joyous throes of choosing 
my furniture. I find Ronald lodged a thousand pounds, 
instead of five hundred, at the bank for me this quarter. 
He wrote to Mr. Arbuthnott, saying that he had over- 
looked the fact that I should have to furnish again. 
Rather thoughtful of him, was it not ? He has also sent 
my grand piano, davenport, private books, and various 
other knickknacks to Arbuthnott’s care for me. I have 
put all draperies, lamps, glass, etc., into Liberty’s hands 

369 


270 


AT HEART A RAKE. 


— the solid furniture will come from Maple’s. I am now 
in a perfect fever to get it furnished, that I may take 
possession and gather my friends around me. Of course 
most of the fashionables are out of town, but the 
majority will return after this month. Oh ! by the way, I 
met Lady Fearon (who has just returned from Hastings 
with her children) to-day, and where do you think my 
lord and master has betaken himself ? — to Norway, yacht- 
ing with his beloved Leytons. Did I not tell you he 
was just as pleased to get his liberty back again as I am ? 
The first use he makes of it, you see, is to go on a trip 
of three or four months with his long-nosed inamorata. 
I always said he was ‘ spoons ’ on that woman — nothing 
wrong, you know, but he thinks she is a model of what 
the sex should be. No wonder he had had enough of 
poor me, for I am as different from Mrs. Leyton as 
chalk from cheese. I hope he’ll enjoy mooning with her 
on deck these lovely nights, and angling for her sym- 
pathy for my misdeeds. Enough of so uninteresting a 
subject. My drawing room is to be furnished in amber 
and brown, — very becoming to my complexion, my dear, 
but I am not sure how it will agree with that of some of 
my friends, — the dining room in old oak, and my bed- 
room in pale blue. Roy is to be promoted to a cot in 
my dressing room, not only because I like to have the 
little man near me at night, but that I want to wean him 
from Reynolds, who would keep him a baby forever. 
My establishment will consist only of a footman, cook, 
housemaid, and Reynolds, as she is quite willing to do 
what I require in the way of dressing, and my room is 
limited, so — Camilla will rejoice to hear this — I have 
dismissed Louise. She was a lovely hairdresser, but 
rather a nuisance at times, so I am not sorry of the ex- 
change, and if necessary, the housemaid can always take 
her turn with Roy. Am I not growing economical ? I 
shall have matriculated before long, to take turns with 
Camilla in ordering the Manor House dinners. Good-by, 
dear Nelly, I hope to have you with me before the 
month is over. I must break off now, as Percy Sefton is 
coming to dine with me and go to the theater afterward. 
Nothing but theaters to see in town at present.- The 


LADY PHYLLIS RESIGNS. 271 

Pushahead is open as usual, but the committee does not 
reassemble till the end of the month. 

Ever your k)ving sister, 

“ Phyllis.” 

As Lady Phyllis was closing this letter, preparatory to 
sending it to the post, a waiter entered her room to an- 
nounce Lord Percy Sefton, who followed on his heels. 
Phyllis came forward smiling, to welcome her cousin with 
an outstretched hand. This was the beginning of the 
exercise of her newly acquired liberty, the first time that 
she had met Lord Percy since her separation from her 
husband. 

‘‘How are you, Percy?” she commenced, “I am so 
pleased to see you. I hardly thought you would have 
returned to town yet. How is Aunt Meliora, and your 
father ? I have only been back from Sedgeley a week. 
It was awfully stupid down there, I couldn’t stand it any 
longer; besides I wanted to choose a flat for myself. I 
have got such a lovely one in Kensington Palace Mansions 
— I have just been writing to tell Nelly about it. But 
sit down, do. This is the first time we’ve met, since 
Ronald and I — separated, you know. Were you sur- 
prised to hear the news ?” 

“Then — then,” stammered Lord Percy, “it is really 
true ? ” 

“ True ! Of course it is. I thought you would have 
heard all about it, through your mother.” 

“I am — I am — very sorry indeed,” again stammered 
her cousin. 

“Sorry? What for?” said Lady Phyllis sharply. 
“You don’t suppose we should have been such fools as 
to have consented to it, if it had not been what we 
wanted ? ” 

“ Oh, yes, I suppose so. Only I didn’t know any- 
thing about it ; it took me quite by surprise. I thought 
— we all thought — that you and Macnaughten were so 
comfortable together.” 

“Then you thought wrong,” replied his cousin, “but 
pray let us drop the subject. I didn’t invite you here 
this evening to join in a jeremiad over my departed 


272 


AT HEART A RAKE. 


bliss. I mean to enjoy myself ever so much better with- 
out it, so does Mr. Macnaughten. He has already 
started on a yachting voyage with his chere amie Mrs. 
Leyton. Oh, you needn’t look so shocked. The doctor 
her husband is of the party, but doubtless they will make 
a very amicable trio. But won’t we have fun, now that 
we can have our own way, eh?” 

“ I always thought that you had it your own way pretty 
well,” said stupid Lord Percy. 

“ That’s all you know about it, Percy. But we can do 
just as we like now without dread of interference. I’ve 
half a mind to run over to Paris with you for a week. 
Wouldn’t it be glorious ? I would go under an alias, and 
then you could take me to see all the fun that ladies are 
so rigorously excluded from in general.” 

But Lord Percy Sefton did not see the joke at all. 
The proposition considerably alarmed him. 

“You mustn’t think of such a thing ! ” he exclaimed ; 
“suppose it reached Macnaughten’s ears, there would be 
a pretty mess ! You will have to be very careful now 
that you are left alone, you know, and give no occasion 
for scandal. You are still so young that I wonder my 
uncle allows you to keep house by yourself. You will 
not be able to have half as much pleasure as when you 
were under the protection of your husband.” 

“ That’s 2\\ you know about it ! ” retorted Lady Phyllis, 
tossing her pretty head. “ Why, I mean to be more dissi- 
pated than I have ever been in my life before. What is 
the good of being my own mistress, if I am not to go 
about as I choose, and with whom I choose. But if you 
are going to read me lectures, and be a bird of evil omen, 
I shall not ask you to escort me again. I believe you’re 
afraid, Percy, that Ronald will return suddenly some day 
and break your head. I wouldn’t be such a coward, if I 
were a man,” continued Phyllis contemptuously, “but 
you need not trouble yourself about it. Captain Rash- 
leigh or Lord Charteris will be only too glad to take 
your place. I only asked you to-night because you are 
my cousin, and I thought it might be better to make my 
first appearance in public as a grass-widow under the 
protection of one of my own family. But I will wire to 


LADY PHYLLIS RESIGNS. 273 

Rashleigh at once, if you like, and he will be here in time 
to accompany me to the theater.” 

“No, no!” urged the little lord ; “ of course it is better 
that you should go with me, and I shall always be glad 
to take you out, Phyllis — only Macnaughten is rather a 
jealous beggar, you know, so you will have to be very 
careful whom you favor with your company, or are seen 
with in public.” 

Bien obligd ! but you are mistaken,” replied Phyllis. 
“ Mr. Macnaughten and I perfectly understand each other 
on this and every point. We are to have our entire 
liberty, without any interference. We shall not even 
know where we severally reside, but communicate when 
necessary through our lawyers. He will go his way and 
I mine ; otherwise I should not see the good of having a 
separation at all.” 

“And what does Uncle Lisnor say about it?” inquired 
Lord Percy, evidently still unsatisfied. 

“Uncle Lisnor’s opinion was not asked,” returned 
Lady Phyllis; “the matter concerns only our two selves. 
However, there’s the dinner gong, so let us terminate the 
interesting subject. We shall have plenty of opportunities 
to renew it ; though, if you consult my wishes, you will 
not mention it again in my hearing.” 

When dinner was concluded they set off for the 
theater together. Lady Phyllis still noisily excited and 
gay, and Lord Percy rather more silent than usual. 
He had never been an interesting companion at the best 
of times, and that evening he seemed duller than there- 
tofore. Phyllis sat well in the front of the box, com- 
menting on all she saw and heard in a lively tone, but 
her cousin appeared rather to wish to pass unobserved 
and kept his chair in the shadow of the curtain, talking 
in monosyllabic whispers. Once or twice she rallied 
him on his stupidity and declared she was sorry she had 
not wired for Captain Rashleigh, after all; and then Lord 
Percy would make an effort to exert himself, but it 
invariably died away in silence. 

Lady Phyllis wondered she had not perceived before 
how uninteresting his conversation was. There was no 
one in the house whom she knew. Town was still empty 


274 


AT HEART A RAKE. 


of the society she moved in, and the regular company of 
the theater was on its provincial tour, so that the per- 
formance was second-rate and the drama stale. 

“Haven’t you had enough of this?” she asked her 
cousin when the curtain fell on the second act, and as he 
answered in the affirmative they rose to leave. As they 
drove past one of the brilliantly illuminated music halls. 
Lady Phyllis exclaimed: 

“How I should love to go there! I must see a music 
hall some evening. It has always been my great 
ambition.” 

“You mustn’t do it; you cannot do such a thing!” 
exclaimed Lord Percy, quite energetically for him. “It 
would be impossible — most improper. A woman of your 
position in a music hall ! I never heard of such a thing. 
You would lose your character entirely.” 

“Oh, have no fears, Mr. Proper,” laughed Phyllis. “I 
shall not ask you to accompany me, you may rest assured 
of that. I shall choose some young man with spirit. 
Why, you are such a wet blanket, you are enough to 
spoil anyone’s pleasure. When / go to a music hall, I 
shall get a cavalier with a little more gumption in him, 
who will not pull a long face each time I open my mouth. 
I declare you have ruined the evening ! ” 

“I’m sorry you think so, Phyllis, but I confess I am 
too grieved to find that this separation between you and 
Macnaughten is un fait accompli^ to feel much disposed 
for amusement. We heard you had had a tiff, but never 
dreamed it could be as serious as this. Take my advicej 
Phyllis, — I know I am not a clever fellow, but I have an 
immense regard for our family name, — and make it up 
with Macnaughten. He’s an awfully good fellow, take 
him all in all, and whether it is the case or not, your 
freedom will never compensate you for the loss of your 
husband’s protection. A woman who lives separate from 
her husband is always looked on with suspicion, espe- 
cially when she is as young and pretty as you are. People 
will say unkind things of you that will make your heart 
ache, and spiteful things that will drive you mad to 
think you have no remedy against them. You won’t find 
this living alone all cakes and ale, take my word for 


LADY PHYLLIS RESIGNS. 275 

it, and the sooner you go back to your husband the 
better.” 

This serious advice, coming from one whom she had 
been accustomed to regard as next door to a simpleton, 
enraged Phyllis all the more, because, early as it was in 
the day, her heart had already whispered to her that she 
had made a mistake. 

“ If you knew how Ronald was in the habit of speaking 
of you,” she exclaimed, “ you would not be quite so ready 
to take up the cudgels in his behalf ! He couldn’t bear 
you. He never lost an opportunity of abusing you. 
You were the butt for half his animadversions against 
me, and had you not been my cousin, I believe he would 
have turned you out of the house.” 

In her annoyance at his taking her husband's part 
against herself Lady Phyllis had said more than was 
either kind or prudent to Lord Percy, and when she 
witnessed his distress at her words, she regretted she 
had uttered them. He was not brilliant, certainly, and 
he often did and said awkward things, but he was a 
gentleman at heart, and had never meant to annoy Mac- 
naughten or anybody else. To hear his actions had 
been so misconstrued made his lips quiver and his eyes 
moist. He waited a moment in order to command his 
voice, before he said : 

“ What you have said has given me great pain, Phyllis. 
I had no idea Macnaughten thought so badly of me. 
Had I done so, you may be sure that I would never have 
entered his house. Why did you not give me a hint of 
it ? I know I often say silly things, but it was all in 
a cousinly way, and I would have died sooner than have 
let your husband imagine that my feelings for you were 
anything more than friendly. I like him so much. He 
has always appeared such a perfect gentleman to me — 
and that he should have thought I could be such a cad — 
it hurts me more than I can say.” 

“Oh, nonsense, what does it signify?” cried his 
cousin. “All that sort of thing is past forever. I 
can do as T choose with regard to you or any man, 
and you can come to my house whenever you like. I 
give you carte-blanche. Yow are my cousin, and no one 


276 


AT HEART A RAKE. 


can blame my preference for you. If they do, it will 
make no difference to me.” 

“No, thank you, Phyllis. I feel the kindness of your 
offer, but you have put it out of my power to accept it. 
After what you have told me of Macnaughten’s dislike 
to me, I will not enter any house of which he is the 
master.” 

'‘^Master! What are you talking of? The house is 
mine, and no one else’s.” 

“Not while he pays for it, Phyllis,” replied Lord 
Percy. 

“ Well, I never heard such a ridiculous idea in my life. 
I am not to receive you, my own cousin, in my own 
house, just because my husband said a few stupid things 
about your intimacy with me. You know that a jealous 
man never thinks what he is saying. He would have 
said the same of anyone whom he thought I liked.” 

“That makes no difference to me. Since his censure 
has fallen upon me, however unjustly, I will not do any- 
thing to merit it. I am sorry, Phyllis, but you must not 
expect to see me at this wonderful flat of yours. I must 
be content with meeting you at the houses of our mutual 
friends.” 

“Just as you please, moyisieur^'' replied his cousin, in 
a tone of pique, “you may be quite sure that I shall not 
worry you on the subject. Come or stay away, just as 
suits you best. There will be plenty of better men ready 
to take your place.” 

“I have not the least doubt of that — and I hope they 
will be better than I am, in every way — better able to 
protect your good name and keep you from all danger. 
But be careful, Phyllis, for all our sakes.. You should 
live the life of a nun, now that you are all alone.” 

Lady Phyllis did not like these constant adjurations to 
be so careful of her good name and to avoid the appear- 
ance of evil. What on earth was the use of being free, 
if the only use she made of her freedom was to imprison 
herself again. And from Percy Sefton of all men! The 
cousin she had looked upon as a tame cat — on whom she 
had depended to be her “walking-stick” — to make him- 
self useful when no one better was at hand — to have him 


LADY PHYLLIS RESIGNS. 


277 


turn Mentor was more than her usually sweet temper 
could stand. She spoke quite sharply as she replied : 

“A nun indeed ! A pretty sort of nun I intend to be. 
Where on earth have you got these old-fashioned notions 
from— your grandmother? We women of the nineteenth 
century have not emancipated ourselves for nothing, I 
can assure you, Master Percy. We are quite capable 
of taking care of ourselves. You forget, I think, that 
you are talking to the vice president of the Pushahead.” 

Lord Percy gave a gesture of distaste. 

“ That horrid place ! I had hoped, when you left town 
after the season, that you would have given it up. You 
should hear how 7rien talk of those women, Phyllis. If 
you did, you would be ashamed to confess that you were 
one of them.” 

“Not at all. I shall never be ashamed to own that I 
am a champion for the rights of my sex. And as for 
what men say of us — a fig for their opinion. Of course 
they abuse us, and why? The reason is obvious. They 
are jealous of our independence. Anyone could see that 
with half an eye.” 

Lord Percy could not help laughing, though he felt sad. 

“My dear Phyllis! you are really too absurd. Jealous! 
of what ? That a number of old maids and a few silly 
married women have banded themselves together to be 
ridiculous ? Do you think that the men want the old 
maids ? Are there not women and to spare in the world? 
And as for les autres, I should say their husbands were 
only too glad to get them out of the house. It doesn’t 
lead to happiness, you see, as in your own case. Under 
such circumstances, people feel they are better apart. 
And who suffers most in a matrimonial separation ” 

“ Not the wife ! ” interposed Phyllis quickly. 

“ Ah ! you say so now, for you have not yet tasted the 
ddsagr^mens of your position, but I will not accept your 
answer yet ; I will come for it in a twelvemonth. But 
here is your hotel,” said Lord Percy, as he jumped out of 
the carriage and offered her his hand in alighting. 
“Good-night, and God bless you ! ” 

“ You will come in and have a glass of champagne, or 
a whisky and soda, Percy ? ” she urged. 


278 


AT HEART A RAKE. 


“ No, thank you, Phyllis. Don’t ask me. I can never 
accept your hospitality again, after what you told me to- 
night. I only wish you had said it months ago. I can- 
not bear to think I have placed myself in a false position 
with that true gentleman, Macnaughten.” 

“Well, I conclude, if he has not bolted for good, 
that he will return to England some day, and then you 
can put yourself right with him, if it so pleases you,” said 
Lady Phyllis. 

“I intend to do so,” he replied, as he raised his hat 
and walked away. 

Lady Phyllis did not feel satisfied as she reviewed the 
events of the evening. That her cousin should have pre- 
sumed to lecture her on her intended mode of living was 
nothing compared to his resolution not to cross her 
threshold while she lived apart from her husband. She 
did not like either to remember the pained expression of 
his face when she so rudely blurted out the sentiments 
that Macnaughten had expressed regarding him. She 
had rather an affection for Lord Percy. He was silly 
and mediocre, but he was very kindly natured and had 
done her many a good turn. She had no idea that he 
would have felt so keenly the revelation that her hus- 
band had commented on his intimacy at their house ; but 
it had evidently wounded him to the quick. Most men 
would have been flattered by the suspicion, she thought, 
have taken advantage of it, perhaps, to be more familiar 
than before ; but this was not Lord Percy Sefton’s idea 
of honor. She had made him unhappy and banished him 
from her home, and she felt a little unhappy herself in 
consequence. And his animadversions on her projected 
style of living rang in her ears, also, long after he had 
disappeared from her sight. She felt low-spirited and 
uncertain, not to say irritable. Reynolds did not 
know what had come to her usually light-hearted mis- 
tress, as she undressed her that night. She was regularly 
pettish, and received her little stories of how Master 
Roy had behaved in the bath, and what he had said on 
going to bed, with perfect indifference. 

The next morning, however, brought a diversion. 
Lady Phyllis received a letter to say that the committee of 


LADY PHYLLIS RESIGNS. 


279 


the Pushahead Club would hold its first autumnal meet- 
ing the following week. Here was balm in Gilead. She 
had forgotten the more serious duties that awaited her in 
her new life, or she would not have been so foolish as to 
let the opinion of a simpleton like Lord Percy disturb 
her mind. She awaited the opening day with impa- 
tience, and was in her chair almost before the appointed 
hour. 

The ladies of the committee seemed pleased to have 
her back among them, and Lady Barton extended her a 
really affectionate welcome. Even Miss Vipan, the 
secretary, appeared to have forgotten their wordy 
encounters, and made Lady Phyllis feel sorry that they 
had ever taken place. One thing only made her sad 
as she entered the familiar portals, the remembrance of 
Cissy. Where she was, and what she was doing, were 
still mysteries to Phyllis, and she resolved that before 
she left the club that day she would make inquiries of 
the president and members, if they had seen or heard 
anything of their unfortunate sister. It was quite home- 
like to enter the committee room, and hear the warm 
greetings that met her on every side. All the ladies 
seemed to have heard of her separation from her hus- 
band, and congratulated her on her release. 

‘‘You have done the wisest thing in your life,” said 
Miss Noble, who, as usual, took the lead in everything. 
“ How any woman can suffer herself to be held in bondage 
to a man, beats me altogether. You will learn now. 
Lady Phyllis, what it is Vo live. You have the ‘world 
before you, where to choose.’ I consider you to be a 
very enviable woman.” 

“I consider myself so,” returned Phyllis, smiling. 

“I never knew what peace was until I had parted with 
Lord Matthew,” said Lady Matthew Winterton, ifi her 
bass tones; “a man who spent his days and nights in 
strumming the piano and scraping the violin, in order to 
compose foolish love songs, which nobody sang. A man 
who ridiculed all my efforts to do him good and drank 
whiskies and sodas by the score. The annual bill at his 
spirit merchant’s was too terrible. It’s a wonder has 
not drank himself into his grave long ago.” 


28 o 


AT HEART A RAKE. 


. “How much wiser you would have both been, had you 
elected to remain as I am, a free woman,” exclaimed 
Miss Noble. “ Lady Barton, I think we should institute 
a medal or a brooch or something of the sort, as a badge 
for the members of this club who have freed them- 
selves from the tyranny of men. The first order for 
those who, like myself, have successfully combated all 
attacks upon their liberty, and the second for such as, 
like our friends here, have emancipated themselves at a 
considerable cost of trouble and annoyance. What do 
you say ? Would it not be rather piquanteV' 

“An admirable idea. Miss Noble,” replied the presi- 
dent; “only I move that there shall be a third order for 
those who are merely members of the Pushahead at 
present, but who may be drawn on, by the good examples 
shown them, to emulate their friends. Who seconds the 
propositions ? ” 

“All of us ! ” cried the ladies. 

“The motion then is carried, nem. con."' 

“Decidedly,” replied Miss Noble. “ We must design 
something, simple but bold, as soon as possible. I think 
an enamel flag with ‘Forward’ on it, as a breastpin, 
would be as pretty as anything. Gold and white for the 
unmarried members — gold and blue for the emancipated 
ones — and gold and red for the ordinary members. 
What do you say.” 

“Admirable! Capital! Nothing could be better!” 
came from the lips of the delighted committee. Lady 
Phyllis alone did not chime in with hearty acquiescence. 
She had never adopted the fashion of wearing men’s 
shirts. Macnaughten had objected to them and asked 
her to leave such innovations to shopgirls, and said that 
they were never intended for women of fashion. So 
that a breastpin did not appeal to her as to the others. 

“Don’t you like the idea. Lady Phyllis?” asked Lady 
Alexander Fox, observing that she was silent. 

“Oh, yes! I have no doubt that it would be very 
pretty; but I was thinking that I should not know where 
to put mine.” 

“Why, wear it in your tie, of course.” 

“But I never wear shirts or ties,” objected Phyllis. 


LADY PHYLLIS, RESIGNS. 


281 


‘‘I — I — don’t like them for ladies; at least they don’t 
become me.” 

“Well, you’ll never be recognized as a Pushahead if 
you don’t adopt them,” said Miss Noble. 

“ What, am I to wear them if they don’t become me ? ” 
asked Lady Phyllis. 

“Miss Noble,” interposed the president, “I think it is 
time that we proceeded to business. We have an extra 
quantity to get through after our recess. I think Miss 
Vipan has twenty or more applications for membership 
to lay before you. We have also a painful duty to per- 
form. Shall we get through with that first ? ” 

“Decidedly,” answered Miss Noble, while Phyllis, who 
had removed her gloves and settled herself in her chair, 
looked up with curiosity to learn what the painful duty 
could be. 

“Ladies of the committee,” commenced the president, 
rising to address the company, “I have an unpleasant, 
but stringent duty before me, from which none of us 
must shrink. You have all heard of the sad event which 
has occurred to one of our members — an event which 
threatens to lower the tone of the club, and to tarnish 
the unblemished name of which we are justly proud. In 
such cases it is usual to recommend the erring member 
to resign, but in the case for consideration that course 
is rendered impossible, on account of no one being 
cognizant of her address. We have therefore decided 
to omit the usual formula and to expel her without 
further ceremony. This is not a subject for vote — it is 
the carrying out of one of our rules — therefore it is not 
necessary for me to do more than announce to you that 
the person known among us as Mrs. Cecil Bernard is 
hereby expelled from the Pushahead Club and her name 
scratched off the list of members.” 

“What? Whom you say?” cried Phyllis, starting 
from her seat and addressing Lady Barton. 

“Pray be seated. Lady Phyllis,” replied the president, 
“there is no occasion for excitement on your part. You 
must have been prepared for this announcement. You 
cannot have supposed that, after what has passed, Mrs. 
Bernard would have been permitted to remain in the club.” 


282 


AT HEART A RAHE, 


‘‘You have expelled her? She will be publicly dis- 
graced?” exclaimed Phyllis interrogatively. 

“Why, of course ; what else did you expect ?” said Miss 
Noble, with an unpleasant laugh. “Your question seems 
strange coming from the vice president of the club. Did 
you imagine that we should retain on our books a 
member who has disgraced herself as Mrs. Bernard has 
chosen to do?” 

“But are we not banded together for that very pur- 
pose — to stand up for and protect those of our sex who 
require protection from the tyranny of men ? Are we 
not pledged to assist them in their warfare against injus- 
tice ? Is this the way to help them — to desert them as 
soon as they are in trouble — to run away and leave them 
to extricate themselves from the difficulties of their 
position — to expose them publiply and post their names 
as outcasts from our club and our sympathy ? ” 

“Is Lady Phyllis Macnaughten really pleading the 
cause of Mrs. Bernard, who has left her husband for 
Captain Austin ? ” inquired the soft voice of Lady Alex- 
ander Fox. 

“ It would seem so! ” said Miss Noble sarcastically. 

“Lady Phyllis was always disposed to be too lenient 
to her friend’s follies,” interposed Miss Vipan. 

“ Oh, it is impossible that Lady Phyllis can intend to 
convey such an impression to the meeting,” said Lady 
Barton. “You have misunderstood her meaning. No 
one with any delicacy could take the part of an aban- 
doned woman like Mrs. Bernard.” 

At this epithet applied to the unfortunate Cissy, 
Phyllis’ indignant blood rushed into her face and her 
temper rose with it. 

“ They have not misunderstood me, Lady Barton,” she 
exclaimed, turning so as to face the president. “It is J 
who have misunderstood all of you; have misunderstood 
the purposes for which this club was founded; the 
regulations by which it is ruled. Mrs. Bernard is one of 
my earliest friends; under no circumstances would 1 
desert her, or turn against her; still less did I expect to 
see it done by the ladies who compose the assembly 
before me now.” 


LADY PHYLLIS RESIGNS. 


283 


Our vice president is pleased to be complimentary !” 
observed Miss Noble, biting her lip. 

“ Lady Phyllis, pray say no more. You cannot know 
what your words imply,” exclaimed Lady Barton 
anxiously. 

“ Excuse me, madam,” replied the girl, “ I know, and 
you must allow me to finish what I have to say. I claim 
the privilege in virtue of my office here as your vice 
president. I believed the Pushahead to have been insti- 
tuted for the benefit of women who felt themselves 
oppressed by the other sex, to afford them assistance and 
kindly sympathy under their troubles. Which among 
you here present knows or has inquired into what 
cruelties and oppressions Mrs. Bernard had to encounter 
before she was driven, in desperation, to seek protection 
from her husband ? I do not defend her ; she has done a 
very wicked thing and a very foolish thing ; but are we 
the ones to blame or to judge her ? Who are we, when 
you come to consider the matter, that we should dare to 
take the law into our own hands regarding this poor 
child, young enough to be the daughter of most of the 
ladies present, and by our act declare her to be unfit to 
associate with us any longer ? ” 

“Well, I’m sure,” ejaculated Miss Noble, “I don’t 
think we ever had such compliments paid to us before in 
the history of the Pushahead.” 

“ Most invidious, very ill-timed, remarkably out- 
spoken! ” murmured Lady Alexander Fox. 

“/ call it libellous,” sniffed the secretary viciously ; 
“as good as saying that we are all rowing in the same 
boat.” 

“ I think it would be a good thing for some here if 
they ivere rowing in the same boat as Mrs. Bernard, Miss 
Vipan,” replied Phyllis, who had caught the words from 
the other end of the table ; her sin is at all events an 
open one. She has not stayed at home, eating her hus- 
band’s bread and deceiving him the while. She has 
sinned, it is true, but she has sinned honestly, and she 
will reap the fruits of her folly. That is preferable to get- 
ting off scot-free on the shoulders of someone else’s 
error. ” 


284 


AT HEART A RAKE. 


^‘I do not understand to whom you can be alluding,’* 
said Lady Alexander, with most injudicious haste to fit 
the cap upon her own head. 

As her shafts struck the target, one after another, 
Phyllis grew more bold to speak the truth. She foresaw 
already how this controversy must end, but the prospect 
did not dismay her. She could only think of poor little 
trembling Cissy, arraigned before this set of stern judges 
who had no pity for her youth and weakness ; this assem- 
bly of middle-aged, hardened women, many of them with 
smirched pasts ; and felt she must say what was in her 
heart, or she would suffocate. So when Lady Alexander 
said that she did not know to whom she was alluding, she 
attacked her at once. 

‘‘ I am alluding to you for one. Lady Alexander. How 
you^ with the case which took place between Lord Alexan- 
der and yourself fresh in the memories of all who read 
it, can have the face to try and hound this poor girl to 
her social death, beats me altogether. One would think, 
with your terrible experiences, you would be the first to 
try and find some extenuating circumstances in the fall 
of any other woman, considering the fiasco by which you 
maintain your own position. People have been very kind 
to you, since then — the Pushahead Club especially so ; 
indeed, it was chiefly on that score that I made so sure it 
would succor my poor little friend. Had I not a right to 
think that whtrt you were admitted, none would be shut 
out ? ” 

“ Lady Barton,” cried Lady Alexander hysterically, 
“ I have never been so insulted in my life.” 

“We are all insulted,” added Miss Noble. 

“ You too. Miss Noble !” continued Phyllis, disregard- 
ing the president’s endeavors to restore order. “ I have 
a word to say to you also. “What is the good of your 
writing a book like ‘The Revolt of the Harem,’ if you 
are not prepared to carry out the sentiments which you 
express in it? You write of women who are oppressed 
and deceived, and driven to madness and suicide, on 
account of the iniquities of their husbands ; you spare us 
no details, however revolting, nor hesitate to enter upon 
questions which have gained you the credit of having 


LADY PHYLLIS RESIGNS. 


285 


experienced what you dilate upon ; yet, when a living 
specimen of your idealized heroines comes before your 
notice, you play the part of the Pharisee in the Bible and 
pass by on the other side. You want the world to weep 
over your fictitious characters and vow to befriend such 
unfortunates in real life, but when you meet them face to 
face, you gather up your skirts and thank God you are 
not as other women are. No more you ever will be, for 
men dislike you too much ever to afford you the oppor- 
tunity. So there is not much virtue in your chastity, 
after all.” 

‘‘ I consider that no such indecent remarks have ever 
been given vent to in this room before,” said Lady 
Matthew Winterton. 

“Ladies ! ladies ! I really must call you to order,” 
exclaimed the president. “Lady Phyllis, this attack on 
your fellow members is most unprecedented. I must 
request you will sit down.” 

But Phyllis was astride her hobby, and remained deaf 
to all entreaty. 

“You, Lady Matthew,” she went on hotly, “are 
extremely good, I have heard, to the unfortunate 
women of the pave j I think that you go so far as to 
ask them into your house to drink tea with you, that 
you may have an opportunity of remonstrating with them 
on their mode of life, and I admire you for it. But why 
not extend your charity to Cissy Bernard ? Is she not 
bad enough for you ; or would her reformation not 
prove a sufficient inducement for you to rescue her from 
the hands into which she has fallen ? Is it possible that, 
while you have no fear of being confounded with the 
women of the street, you are afraid of being known to 
take an interest in the misfortune of one of your own 
position in life ; that your desire to do good does not 
extend to exposing yourself to the suspicion that you do 
not sufficiently censure the downfall of a lady ? You will 
go out by night to seek your fallen sisters of the street, 
but you would not seek out Mrs. Bernard, wherever she 
may be, and raise her from the mire into which she has 
plunged herself.” 

“ Most certainly not,” answered Miss Noble, for the 


286 


AT HEART A RAKE. 


rest ; “we will neither seek her out in her infamy, nor 
permit her to come among us again, you may rest 
assured of that, Lady Phyllis Macnaughten ! ” 

“Then I shall leave you !” cried Phyllis ; “my name 
shall no longer be associated with women who act in a 
manner so contrary to their professions, who say one 
thing and do another. I resign my vice presidentship, I 
resign my membership, I belong no longer to the Push- 
ahead Club!” 

“Dear Lady Phyllis, pray do not act so hastily,” 
whispered the president in her ear ; “ let me explain.” 

“There is no explanation, Lady Barton, that can satisfy 
me,” replied Phyllis. “ I joined your club under a total 
misapprehension. I thought you were a band of noble 
women, above the petty prejudices of your fellows ; I 
thought you were of one mind and intention, to right the 
wrongs and uphold the liberty of your sex — but I see 
that I was mistaken. You are no more noble, nor in- 
dependent of public opinion, nor courageous enough to 
fly in the face of society, than any other women. You 
can talk a great deal and write a great deal, but when 
an opportunity is afforded you of showing what stuff you 
are made of, you slink out of the way like anybody else. 
You are as full of meanness and jealousy, and party 
spirit and backbiting, as the most despicable of your 
sex ; how can you profess, then, to lead women or teach 
the world what they can be and do ? Do you suppose 
that dressing like men, or riding on cycles, or cutting your 
hair short, will advance the interests of the feminine 
world ? It does but bring you into ridicule. Men have 
always said that women are the bitterest enemies of 
women ; that it is we who hound them down when they 
commit an error and prevent their regaining the position 
they have lost ; and they are right ! You want to force 
men to lead as strict lives as we are supposed to do, and 
to present themselves at the marriage altar with a clean 
past in their hands. But before you can persuade them 
to attain that height of morality you must show 
that you consider the crime no worse in a woman than a 
man. Since for every man who falls a woman must fall 
with him, the record is equal for both. When men lead 


LADY PHYLLIS RESIGNS. 


287 


clean lives women must do the same ; why then should 
you treat them in a different manner ? If one rises, the 
other will rise, and not till then. While you treat men 
(although fallen) as you do to-day, you should treat 
women the same ; or better, since they are the weaker of 
the two. But I have finished ; I have said my last word 
among you. Your club is only a silly sham ; a weak 
imitation of the sex which you profess to despise — an 
assemblage of uncharitable and spiteful women. I say 
good-by to you.” 

With which Lady Phyllis gathered up her gloves, and 
with a haughty gesture turned to quit the room. 

There was consternation among the ladies of the 
committee. They had considered the election of Lady 
Phyllis Macnaughten as rather a feather in their cap — 
they knew she was a woman who moved in good society 
— who had, moreover, an inconvenient habit of speaking 
her mind openly — and they dreaded the gossip she might 
raise by relating the reason of her forsaking them. 
Lady Barton took her hand, begged her not to go till she 
had heard what the members had to say — it was not fair 
to them, she urged, to refuse them the opportunity of 
answering her objections. Lady Phyllis yielded so far as 
to remain where she was, but she refused to reseat herself. 

“There can be but one answer to what I have said,” 
she replied. “Will they consent to let Mrs. Bernard’s 
name remain on the list of club members ?” 

“ Impossible ! It would be a scandal. We could not 
countenance such an open disgrace ! ” exclaimed the 
ladies simultaneously. 

“And I, as president, should not dare to allow it,” said 
Lady Barton. “ Come, dear Lady Phyllis ! think for a 
moment. Would Mr. Macnaughten sanction your con- 
tinuing her acquaintance ? ” 

“No!” replied Phyllis firmly, “but you have taught 
me to disregard the prohibitions of my husband and to 
act for myself alone. Anyway, in this instance, I am 
decided. The only condition on which I could remain 
among you would be the reinstatement of Mrs. Bernard.” 

“That is entirely out of the question,” said Lady 
Barton, upon which Phyllis bowed to the assembly and 
walked out of the room. 


CHAPTER XXI 


ONBOARD THE “ EVALINE. ” 

As soon as Ronald Macnaughten had ascertained that 
his wife had left London under the protection of her 
father, he placed his house in Hill Street in the agents’ 
hands and sailed for Norway with his friends the Ley- 
tons, in the yacht ‘‘Evaline.” They had perfect 
weather, the sea was like a vast lake of unruffled waters, 
and the party on board was composed chiefly of 
young, gay, and amiable people. Merriment and good 
will were the order of the day, and none were prepared 
to enjoy themselves more than Dr. and Mrs. Leyton. 
But the presence of their friend Macnaughten did not 
add to their pleasure. He alone of all on board seemed 
to take no part in the fun which went on around him. 
They had dances on deck each evening, in which even 
the Leytons, forgetting their sober ages and their big 
children at home, would join ; and then Macnaughten, 
yielding to their entreaties and unwilling to be more of 
a wet blanket than possible, would dance also, and de- 
light some girl by choosing her as his partner, and prov- 
ing what an excellent waltzer he was. But as soon as the 
amusement was over he would retire to the smoking 
saloon, or sit on deck gazing out into the starry night, 
and looking so miserable that Mrs. Leyton’s kind heart 
bled for him. 

“Jack !” she would whisper to her husband, “lam 
almost sorry that we persuaded Mr. Macnaughten to join 
us. We had better have left him to his grouse. It 
makes me miserable to see him. Just look at him rfow. 
Does he not seem as if he were going to cut his throat ? 
I cannot think why he ever consented to this separation, 
since it makes him so unhappy.” 

“Perhaps he had no choice,” replied the doctor. “He 

288 


ON BOARD THE ^'E VALINE. 


289 


is very wretched, poor fellow ! there is no doubt of that. 
If you will make yourself scarce, I will have a talk with 
him, and see if I can rouse him a little.” 

“ That's a good broad hint,” said his wife, laughing, 
as she ran off to join a group of her friends. 

Dr. Leyton left his seat and approached the spot 
where Ronald had ensconced himself, just behind the 
wheel. 

‘‘Splendid night ; isn’t it, old chap ?” he commenced, 
as he sat down beside him. “How bright the stars be- 
come as we near the North ! I cannot conceive anything 
more perfectly enjoyable than a trip like this. Fine 
weather — good company — a tight little yapht — and an ex- 
perienced skipper. Is it not charming ? Confess now ; 
are you not enjoying yourself ? ” 

“Oh, perfectly!” answered Macnaughten mechani- 
cally. 

“ What are you doing then, here alone, when there are 
so many pretty girls playing bezique and singing songs 
in the saloon ? No harm in mild flirtation on the open 
seas, you know. When the cat’s away, the mice may 
play, eh ? ” 

“I don’t feel like playing,” said his friend. 

“ Pooh, pooh I you mustn’t think so much of this 
business, Ronald,” replied the doctor kindly. “It ’ll all 
blow over, man ; see if it doesn’t. A mere lovers’ 
quarrel, take my word for it. You’ll be as right as a 
trivet before you’ve been back in England two months.” 

“ I don’t think so ; in fact, I am sure not. You don’t 
know my wife, Jack, and I don’t think you quite know 
me. We are both too proud to make the first step to- 
ward a reconciliation. Besides, what would be the use 
of it? We should quarrel again in a week. She is much 
too much bent on having her own way, and I on having 
mine. We never did get on together as you and Mrs. 
Leyton do. Sometimes I think you two must have been 
made for each other, you agree so wonderfully on every 
point.” 

“Nonsense, man! We differed as much as you and 
Lady Phyllis at first. We had quite different ideas, and 
wishes, and pursuits, when we married. But that was 


AT HEART A RAKE, 


290 

before we became friends. Since that time we have never 
had a single dispute. We have grown together, until we 
really have but one mind and one desire — thank God for it!” 

‘‘Before you were friends f repeated Macnaughten, 
struck by the expression. “But surely to be lovers is 
better than to be merely friends.” 

The doctor laughed. 

“Ah, my dear fellow I that’s the mistake that most 
people make in contemplating marriage. A man thinks 
that if he loves a woman and she loves him, it is all that 
is necessary to insure a happy married life for both of 
them. Why, a man can love any woman who is young 
and pretty; and a woman will love any man who appears 
to love her. That is no love — it is sentiment, passion, 
whatever you like to call it — an instinct of nature, which 
kills itself by what it battens on, Ronald. I have seen 
a great many unhappy married people in my medical 
capacity, and I can assure you that the majority of them 
owe their unhappiness to seeing too much of each other. 
That is the great mistake of marriage, in my opinion. 
Seeing too little before marriage, and too much after- 
ward ! Love, so-called — soon ends in satiety, and satiety 
broods distaste.” 

“ Good God ! ” cried Macnaughten, sitting upright and 
gazing into the doctor’s face, “Phyllis said exactly the 
same thing to me once. She said she was getting tired 
of me.” 

“Precisely, and you may believe she spoke the truth. 
Women are very intuitive in such matters. You have 
doubtless sickened one another, with your eternal 
society. I remember your ‘ spoony ’ days, Ronald. I 
never did see a fellow so hard hit in my life, — you made a 
perfect fool of yourself, — and I predicted it would end in 
something like this, even then.” 

“I know I was a fool,” murmured Macnaughten, in a 
low voice, “but I worshiped her.” 

“I dare say you did, and worship is all very well for a 
few weeks; but if you want a woman’s respect you should 
control such ebullitions, or she will end by laughing at 
them. A man looks a great ass when he is in love, 
Ronald, and women are far cooler then we are. They 


ON BOARD THE ‘‘E VALINE T 291 

see the ludicrous side of our passion, while we imagine it 
is still a foretaste of the joys of heaven.” 

“How did you become friends, as you term it, with 
Mrs. Leyton ? ” demanded Macnaughten abruptly. 

“ Don’t say as I term it, please. I intended you to 
accept my words in their fullest sense. You can be 
‘ spoony ’ on half a dozen women, as I said before — and 
not be friends with one. Friendship is a much higher 
sentiment than love; it is everything combined, it is in 
fact the true union of man and woman — the dual spirit 
and body — the feeling which makes them oneH 

“And you did not begin your married life with that 
feeling, then ? ” demanded Ronald. 

“ Most certainly not. No married couples do. How 
can they ? What opportunity is given men before mar- 
riage to discover if the girls they fancy are likely to 
make them true and faithful friends for life ? I married 
my dear wife as other men do. I loved her, as I said 
then; took a fancy for her, as I should say now; because 
I saw she was a sweet, good, amiable girl, obedient to her 
parents, with religious feeling and a steady character. 
But the first year we lived together, our happiness was 
in danger more than once. I was exigeant and uxorious. 
I wanted her always with me; would not take a meal 
without her; grumbled if she expressed a desire to visit 
her family without me; considered that I had married 
her for her companionship, and that it was her duty to 
remain always by my side. She was obedient to my 
wishes, but after a while I saw the bad effects of my self- 
ishness in her growing apathy. She was getting sick of 
me, in fact — just as you say your pretty wife said she was 
of you — and no wonder. Are we gods, man, that we can 
hope, single-handed, to fill up the measure of a woman’s 
existence ? We may be the cleverest, most amusing 
creatures on the face of God’s earth in public; but how 
soon, do you suppose, do our wives not know every joke, 
every good story, every exposition that we can give ? 
We go out into the world, and see and hear all there is 
to be seen or heard. But we consider that the reflection 
of these good things must suffice for the mental appetites 
of the women we leave at home.” 


292 


AT HEART A RAHE. 


“I never saw the matter in that light before,” said 
Macnaughten. 

“Few husbands do, but most medical men can tell you 
what the women think of it. Wives are too much kept 
under; not allowed sufficient liberty in choosing their 
own friends, own occupations, own ways of doing and 
ordering things. No one hates the innovations which 
have crept into society of late years more than I do. I 
allude to the clubs, and societies, and public occupations 
that ladies have taken to, but it is we who are at the 
bottom of it all — we, with our determination to govern 
their lives, and make their laws, and superintend all their 
amusements and duties. We have not treated our 
women as rational creatures; the consequence is, they 
have become, in many instances, irrational. Oh, there 
is a great deal to be said on their side, Macnaughten. I 
am a man, but I am all for the women and their wrongs. 
I have seen so much, in my professional capacity, of the 
domestic tyranny and cruelty to which they are sub- 
jected, often under the name of Love — that sometimes 
I feel that I hate my own sex, if only for the way they 
treat the other. Had you seen women, as I have, in 
many instances, killed by bearing too many children, and 
daily ruined in health and spirits from the same cause — 
treated with less consideration by their husbands than 
they would treat a valuable horse or dog, you would say, 
as I do, that their lot in marriage is often a very hard 
one, in which they have no choice, but are compelled to 
submit to whatever the ignorance or brutality of their 
masters chooses for them. But if a man’s wife is his 
friend, it is impossible that either could take advantage 
of the other.” 

“But tell me. Jack,” urged his companion, “how did 
you make your wife into your friend ? ” 

“The change began in myself. One day I had been 
attending a wealthy patient, who was suffering from low 
spirits and bad appetite. I saw at once that what she 
needed was change; that she had been shutting herself 
up too much at home, and wanted fresh air and more 
cheerful society. I told her what I considered she 
should do, and she immediately consented to take my 


ON BOARD THE EVALINET 293 

advice. I returned home the same afternoon and found 
my poor Sophy with red rims to her eyes. I taxed her 
with having indulged in crying, and she confessed to 
being a little low-spirited and weary — she didn’t know 
why, there was no cause for it, she supposed it was the 
weather, or some trifling ailment — and it was not worth 
my notice. But I thought about it a great deal. I 
recalled how much she had stayed indoors of late 
because I was occupied and could not go out with her, 
and did not like her walking alone. I remembered that 
I had left her to dine two days following by herself, 
when probably she had not thought it worth while to 
look after her own comfort — and I questioned if I had 
any right to think such a course would agree with my 
wife better than with Lady Bagshot. In consequence I 
insisted on her going down to her father’s house for 
a fortnight, and during her absence held some severe 
catechisms on my own conduct as a husband toward her, 
and came to the conclusion that I had been a selfish beast, 
and under the guise of affection had pretty well robbed 
her young life of all its brightness. She came home after 
her little outing as fresh as a flower, and then I told her 
what I had been thinking of, and implored her to treat 
me as a friend thenceforward; not to pander to my self- 
ish feelings if they were in the least contrary to her own. 
I was never so happy as I have been since then. The 
change did not come all at once, but as I told you before, 
confidence begat confidence and we grew together, day 
by day, until now I verily believe we think together. 
We never have a differing word; but at the same time we 
never have the slightest hesitation in expressing our 
opinions to each other, or in pursuing our own way. 
For instance if, on reaching land, Sophy were to say to 
me, ‘I would rather stay on the yacht,’ I should not 
dream of persuading her go ashore; and if I were the one 
to wish to be left alone, I should take no offense if she 
accompanied her friends. But the funny part is that 
now we have agreed to be perfectly free of one another, 
we very seldom wish to part. Indeed, nothing but duty 
ever makes us do so. Sophy is the most devoted wife 
and mother that I know, and the truest friend — I do not 


294 


AT HEART A RAKE. 


believe she has a thought of which I am not cognizant — 
but for all that, I acknowledge that she is an independent 
being, who is only too good to devote so much of her 
time to me; and I treat her as such.” 

“You are the happiest couple I know,” sighed Mac- 
naughten. 

“And you maybe the other, if you choose,” replied 
his friend. 

“ I did not stint my wife of her liberty. Jack. The fact 
of her belonging to that hateful Pushahead Club, the 
very name of which I detest, is a proof of that.” 

“Ah, my dear boy, but that was wrong. I do not say 
that because our wives should be our best friends, we are 
to let them run their necks into danger, without remon- 
strance. If you saw Lady Phyllis about to mount a 
vicious horse, would you not be justified in restraining 
her ? But had you made her your friend, she would never 
have wished to associate her name with such a place. 
Why did she want to get her head ? Because the curb 
was too tight. If you had driven her with a snaffle — 
excuse the simile — she would have gone more quietly. 
But there’s plenty of time for that. Just think over 
what I have said, and I believe you will see that I am 
right.” 

“I see it already. Jack. But I never dreamed that 
people who love each other as Phyllis and I once loved 
could have too much of each other’s company. If hus- 
band and wife are to be one ” 

“ My dear fellow, in that sense, you can never make 
two people one. You must leave them their individu- 
ality. You cannot mold their tastes and ideas in exactly 
the same groove. If you could, the effect would be very 
disappointing. There would be no sharpening of wits, 
no exchange of ideas, no help on either side for the 
other. Their spirits may be one — their minds and bodies, 
never. Now, look here, Ronald. Have you not often 
met with brothers and sisters, or friends, who have had 
but one home throughout their lives, and contrived to 
live happily and peacefully with each other ? I have met 
with many such, and been charmed with the perfect har- 
mony in which they dwelt together. Why can so few 


ON BOARD THE EVA LINE. 


295 


husbands and wives do the same ? You know that mar- 
ried life is more often a failure than not. The reason is 
because they exhaust each other, body and soul. They 
are, as a rule, so jealous, so exigeants^ so uxorious, 
that they mutually weary of the monotony of their ex- 
istence. A man does not like his wife’s friends, perhaps. 
Were they his sister’s friends, he would simply avoid 
them — being his wife’s, he orders her to know them no 
more, or they shall quarrel. Is this justice ? Is it treat- 
ing a woman like a reasonable creature, with her own 
likes and dislikes ? Is it allowing her to have any tastes 
of her own ? In the same manner a certain place perhaps 
agrees with her, but it doesn’t suit him. Is she to be 
deprived of the change which will best restore her health, 
or he forced to spend his holidays in one which affords 
him no pleasure ? And let me tell you here, Ronald, that 
an occasional separation is the very best recipe for pre- 
serving the feelings of married people fresh and un- 
tainted. Husbands and wives should make a point of 
parting now and then, for policy’s sake. There is a deal 
of sober truth hidden under the plea of Gilbert’s peccant 
lover in ‘The Trial by Jury,’ when he says that ‘One 
cannot eat mutton all day.’ I have traced many a case 
of infidelity to the fact of the parties seeing too much of 
one another.” 

“And sometimes to their not seeing enough of one 
another,” interposed Macnaughten, with a sad smile. 

“Exactly so. Extremes are always a mistake. But 
when either men or women are doomed to hear the same 
sentiments, the same stories, the same details, day after 
day, they are apt to fancy the first person they meet 
interesting, if only from the force of novelty. You know 
how that works with our sex, Ronald. We come up from 
the country, and think every painted and powdered 
beauty we see in town delightful. We go down from 
London, and fall head over ears in love with the first 
dairymaid we encounter. Variety is charming, under all 
circumstances. And I find married people as a rule far 
too careless about keeping the love they have gained. 
They imagine that, once securely married, their fancies 
are fettered with their hands. Never was there a greater 


296 


AT HEART A RAKE. 


mistake. It is then we have to put forth all our powers, 
to prevent the glamour of love vanishing on a closer in- 
spection. It is then we have to exert, not only our 
affection, but our wisdom, our unselfishness, to use our 
eyes and ears, that nothing that threatens to destroy 
our new-found happiness may steal upon us unawares. 
Marriage is not all honey, Ronald. No state of life is. 
But when two true friends embark on the journey, their 
mutual affection produces harmony, for the simple reason 
that each would rather yield his or her desire than see 
a cloud on the brow of the other.” 

“You have put things in an entirely new light to 
me. Jack. How I wish you had spoken to me like this 
before.” 

“ Better late than never ! ” replied the doctor. 

“It is altogether too late for me,” said Macnaughten 
gloomily. “However, I will try and shake myself to- 
gether and not worry you with my megrims any longer. 
It’s no use crying over spilled milk, is it?” 

At this juncture, Mrs. Leyton came up to their side. 

“What are you two conspirators plotting?” she de- 
manded. “ Jack, they are talking about getting up some 
private theatricals on board. Will you act ?” 

“ My dear girl, you know that I cannot speak two lines 
correctly. What would be the good of me ? But I can 
be prompter, or scene shifter, or lend my valuable ser- 
vices in any other humble capacity. But here is Ronald, 
who was always our jeune premier at college. Why not 
enlist him ? ” 

“Oh, Mr. Macnaughten, will you really help us?” 
exclaimed Mrs. Leyton. “We were just wondering who 
would do for the lover. All the others are so old.” 

“ Complimentary to me ! ” quoth Leyton. 

“You goose ! have you not just said that you can’t 
act; and from what I remember of your attempts at 
charades with the children, I can quite believe you.” 

“You rude woman ! Fancy exposing your husband’s 
weaknesses in that way.” 

“ I am not going to say my husband can do a thing 
when he can’t, just because he is my husband. Jack.” 

“Quite right, Sophy. Tell truth and shame the devil.” 


ON BOARD THE “EVAL/NET 297 

“But will Mr. Macnaughten join us?” she pleaded. 

“ Certainly he will. What else has he come here for, 
except to make himself agreeable. I prescribe it for 
him,” said the doctor. 

“ Now, Jack, you promised me we should not have one 
word of ‘ shop ' during the trip. I’ll fine you, if you 
mention anything about prescriptions again.” 

“What a bully you are for a man to be tied to! Per- 
haps you won’t get Macnaughten without.” 

“I mean to try, at all events. Come along, jeune 
pretnier ! Miss Alice Tresswell and Miss Chilton are all 
on tenterhooks to learn if you will join our party. They’ll 
be pulling caps for the part of the lady you’re to make 
love to. Jack, I’m going to have a lover, too. A middle- 
aged one, but he will have to make love properly, all the 
same.” 

“ I don’t care who you make love to, you jade, so long 
as you don’t worry me,” laughed the doctor. 

“ Oh, but I am going to worry you, all the same. You 
must arrange the scenery for us, and teach us our parts. 
Now, throw that nasty cigar into the water, and come 
along with me. They are all waiting for you in the 
saloon.” 

And with the two gentlemen in tow, she took her way 
back to the cabin. 


CHAPTER XXII. 


AT THE ALHAMBRA. 

As soon as Liberty and Maple had done their part in 
fitting up the flat in Kensington Palace Mansions, Lady 
Phyllis Macnaughten took possession of her new home, 
and for a few days was too much occupied in unpacking 
her property, forwarded by Mr. Arbuthnott, and in 
admiring her pretty rooms, to have any time to spare for 
lamenting over the termination of her connection with 
the Pushahead Club. 

Her beautiful piano, by Erard, had arrived, and her 
marquetrie davenport, and all her own books, which 
Ronald had had bound for her when they were first mar- 
ried. While unpacking a box of ornaments which had 
graced her boudoir in Hill Street she suddenly came 
upon an exquisitely painted photograph of her husband, 
one of his first gifts to her. It was so unexpected that 
it seemed almost as if she had met Ronald himself com- 
ing round a corner, and Phyllis felt her hand tremble as 
she held it. The picture represented a young man in 
shooting costume, with lithe, long limbs and handsome 
features, and he was smiling so naturally and saucily at 
her that it gave her pain to regard him. 

“That is how he used to look,” she thought, “in the 
old days, when we cared for one another. Ah, well ! 
they are past now, and I have no wish to keep a 
reminder of them always before my eyes. He had 
better return whence he came. The man this represents 
is no longer in existence.” 

She wrapped the portrait in the covering from which 
she had unrolled it, but, after a moment’s consideration, 
took it out again and placed it on the mantelshelf. 

“ Perhaps it will be as well to let it remain there, after 

298 


AT THE ALHAMBRA. 


299 


all,” she said to herself. “ People are so kind they may 
not believe that I have a husband if they don’t see some 
evidence of the fact.” 

But she put it far backward, where it could not catch 
her eye each time she glanced that way. 

As she was thus occupied her servant announced that 
Mrs. Warrington was outside, but refused to come in if 
her presence would be in the least inconvenient. Lady 
Phyllis jumped up from her employment at once, dashed 
her hand suspiciously across her eyes, and desired that 
Mrs. Warrington should be shown in without delay. She 
had only met this lady once before, but the interview had 
greatly impressed her. Mrs. Warrington was a quiet, 
unostentatious gentlewoman, without the least preten- 
sions to goodness, and yet doing her work of charity by 
stealth every hour of the day. She spoke little of re- 
ligion, yet practiced it in every action of her life. She 
never blamed the deeds of others, while her own were as 
pure and sinless as a mortal’s could be. 

She also had taken a fancy for this lovely, heedless 
girl at first sight, and longed to help her in the difficult 
path she had chosen for herself, and when she heard 
from Lady Fearon that she had separated from her hus- 
band, she resolved to cultivate her acquaintance, and, if 
possible, bring them together again. 

She entered the room with an apology for being there 
at all. 

‘‘ My dear Lady Phyllis, will you forgive me for 
intruding upon you at this time of confusion ? It looks 
unwarrantable in a stranger. But I really did not intend 
to do more than call and ask after you. I had no hope 
of being admitted; and I will run away at once, if my 
presence here is inconvenient.” 

Not at all ! ” cried Phyllis heartily, as she arose from 
among thevOpen cases. “ I was just unpacking some of 
my old possessions, forwarded from my solicitors. You 
know how one comes to love one’s books and knick- 
knacks, and welcome them back like old friends. But I 
shall be so pleased if you will stop amid this chaos and 
have some tea with me.” 

“There is nothing I should like better. It is quite 


300 


AT HEART A RAKE. 


chilly this afternoon. But it must be on condition that I 
do not interrupt your work. If you will go on with your 
unpacking, I will sit here and watch you.” 

Having ordered tea, the ladies were left alone. 

“What lovely rooms you have here ! ” exclaimed Mrs. 
Warrington admiringly. “I do not think I ever saw a 
more exquisite chandelier. It is Venetian glass, is it not ? 
Is that an heirloom, Lady Phyllis ? ” 

Phyllis laughed. 

“No, indeed, Mrs. Warrington. That magician Lib- 
erty found it for me. He has done all the decora- 
tive part of the furnishing. Is not that majolica flower- 
stand lovely ? I have not made the acquaintance of half 
my new possessions yet. I go round the rooms like a 
stranger, finding out fresh beauties at every turn. I like 
those silver sconces fixed in the wall so much ! I told 
Liberty I wouldn’t have gas. It hurts my eyes to read 
by it at night.” 

“ And do you read much ? ” inquired Mrs. Warrington. 

Assez bien^'' replied Phyllis, shrugging her shoulders; 
“but I have not much time for it. The days fly so 
quickly, and I generally spend the evenings at the thea- 
ter or receptions.” 

“ Do you ? ” said her friend, with the slightest possible 
elevation of her eyebrows, as though the admission sur- 
prised her. 

“Why, yes. What should I do else? It would be 
very lonely — I mean stupid,” said Phyllis, correcting her- 
self, “staying at home by myself.” 

“Naturally, poor child!” rejoined Mrs. Warrington 
compassionately; and then, looking at the portrait of 
Macnaughten on the mantelshelf, she added: “What a 
singularly handsome young man ! Is this a relation. 
Lady Phyllis ? ” 

“That? ” said Phyllis, reddening. “Oh, that is — is — 
Mr. Macnaughten — my husband ! ” 

“ Indeed ! ” said the other gravely. She had evidently 
expected to find the recreant husband a stern or disa- 
greeable looking individual; while here was a face full of 
sweet gravity and feeling — the face, she felt sure, of a 
man capable of good, if not good already. 


AT THE ALHAMBRA. 


301 


At that moment Roy, who had managed to elude the 
vigilance of Reynolds, who was busy setting things to 
rights, burst into the room without any ceremony. 

“Roy, Roy, who gave you leave to come inhere?” 
cried Lady Phyllis reprovingly. But Roy stood his 
ground, gazing at the stranger. 

“ Oh, the dear child ! ” exclaimed Mrs. Warrington, 
with sudden animation. “Is that your little boy. Lady 
Phyllis ? Pray, let me look at him.” 

“Yes, that is my naughty boy,” said Phyllis, dragging 
forward the lusty, rosy child with evident pride and 
pleasure. “ There is not such another tyrant in all Lon- 
don, Mrs. Warrington. He rules his poor nurse and 
mother with a rod of iron, but somehow they like it, all 
the same.” 

“I can quite understand that,” replied Mrs. Warring- 
ton, who was gazing at Roy with the tears in her eyes. 
“ I cannot tell you how the sight of this little one moves 
me. Lady Phyllis. He reminds me so powerfully of my 
boy in heaven ! Did Lady Fearon ever tell you that I 
had a little son once and lost him ? ” 

“No, never. How sad ! ” 

“ It nearly broke my heart at the time,” resumed Mrs. 
Warrington; “but doubtless it was for the best. That 
was what first turned my attention to tending the chil- 
dren of the poor — that made me adopt my nephew. The 
blank was too horrible ! If I had not had some engross- 
ing occupation I should have gone out of my mind. 
Your little Roy is so like what my Edward was. Just 
the same stalwart limbs and bonny rosy face. Yet he 
slipped from my grasp in a few hours.” 

“ I am so sorry ! ” murmured Lady Phyllis. 

“It was the croup,” went on Mrs. Warrington, in a 
low voice. “ Just a walk on a mild spring day, a little 
cough and fever, and he was gone ! Yet it was God’s 
will, and nothing can alter that. He permitted the trial, 
to turn my thoughts to better things.” 

She kissed the little boy tenderly, almost solemnly, on 
his fair, open brow, and Phyllis led him from the room 
again and delivered him over to his nurse. When she 
returned her visitor had regained her equanimity. 


302 


AT HEART A RAKE. 


“Talking of my nephew, Lady Phyllis,” she com- 
menced, “reminds me of the real object of my visit to 
you. Have you heard that he has gone down to Sedge- 
ley, by Lord Lisnor’s request, to consult with him about 
his Mexican property ? ” 

“No, indeed,” replied Phyllis joyfully; “but I am 
very glad to hear it. My father was speaking to me the 
other day, when I was down there, of his silver mines, 
which appear to be going wrong, and I strongly advised 
him to consult Mr. Frederick Arbuthnott. I am glad to 
hear he has taken my advice.” 

“I don’t think he could have chosen anyone more 
likely to advise him well than Frederick,” said Mrs. 
Warrington, “for he has had some experience that way. 
He went out to the Argentine Republic for a gentleman 
two years ago, and was most successful. Indeed, he was 
so charmed with the country that I was half afraid he 
would settle there, and was only too thankful to see him 
home again.” 

“You would not like to part with him, then,” said 
Phyllis, smiling. 

“Part with Frederick!” exclaimed Mrs. Warrington 
eagerly, “no, indeed! Why, he is the greatest worldly 
comfort I have. No one knows how good and unselfish 
and true that young man is but myself. I don’t believe 
there is a more upright, conscientious, honorable creature 
in the world.” 

“ That is high praise,” remarked Phyllis. 

“ No praise could be too high for him,” rejoined her 
companion. “ But I must not trespass on your time any 
longer. Lady Phyllis. May I hope that some day, when 
you have nothing better to do, you will look in upon my 
little hospital ? ” 

“I will, Mrs. Warrington ; I should like to do so,” 
replied Phyllis cordially. 

“And,” said Mrs. Warrington, as she took the girl’s 
hand, and looked earnestly into her beautiful face, “ I 
shall not forget you, my dear ; rest assured of that. I 
shall pray for you often.” 

And before Phyllis could answer her she was gone. 

At first the young woman had been rather anxious that 


AT THE ALHAMBRA. 


303 


she should not prolong her visit, for she was expecting 
Captain Rashleigh every minute in order to take her to 
the Alhambra, but her last words had made her feel serious, 
and she almost wished she had not made the engagement. 
She had attained her wish at last, to visit a music hall, 
but the flavor had been taken out of the proceeding. 
When Captain Rashleigh was announced half an hour 
later she was almost cross with him, and said, in the course 
of the tHe-a-tete dinner that succeeded, that she had not 
quite made up her mind about it. 

Oh, come, I say ! ” exclaimed the captain, who had 
not grown more deferential toward her since she had 
become a grass-widow ; ^‘that’s not fair. Lady Phyllis, 
you know. I had no end of a bother to get the box ; it's 
on the grand tier, and I can’t let you waste it, by Jove ! 
You must come now, if only to please me.” 

‘‘Well, if you put it that way. Captain Rashleigh, I 
suppose I must, but I don’t expect to enjoy myself, so I 
give you fair warning. I am afraid music halls are not 
quite the places for women with any serious intentions 
in life.” 

“Serious intentions in life!” echoed Captain Rash- 
leigh, with a waggish look. “Oh, come. Lady Phyllis ! 
that’s too much, you know. You with serious intentions ! 
That’s quite an anomaly, confess now.” 

“And why should I not have serious intentions. Cap- 
tain Rashleigh ? Life has not been all honey to me, I 
assure you.” 

“ I fancy you must manage to extract as much honey 
from it as most people,” replied her companion, still 
unconvinced. 

“That’s all you know about it then,” said Phyllis 
petulantly. 

Captain Rashleigh was a man from the idea of a close 
intimacy with whom she would have shrunk with aver- 
sion ; he was neither clever, deep-thinking, nor artistic. 
She had consented to accompany him to the Alhambra 
more from bravado than anything else, but before they 
had reached the theater she was sick of him. Mrs. War- 
rington’s mention of her dead child kept echoing in her 
ears, and made her wonder what she should do if a 


3^4 


AT HEART A RAKE. 


similar misfortune befell her with Roy ; and the thought 
of Roy mingled somehow with that of his father, and she 
wandered in fancy to the coast of Norway, while she 
wondered what Ronald could possibly see in that dowdy 
Mrs. Leyton to make a couple of months spent in her 
society endurable. 

“What is the matter with you?” inquired her com- 
panion presently. “Are you not enjoying yourself, 
Lady Phyllis ? ” 

“Extremely, thank you! Never more so,” replied 
Phyllis, in a languid voice. 

“ Will you lunch with me to-morrow, and go to the 
Exhibition afterward ? It does not close till next 
month.” 

“I shall be delighted,” she said. 

“Oh, by the way,” exclaimed Rashleigh, “I suppose 
you know that Macnaughten has returned to town.” 

All the blood in Phyllis’ body seemed to rush into her 
face, as she bent low over her programme and murmured : 

“ I had not heard it. We do not take much interest 
in each other’s movements, you know. Where is he 
staying ? ” 

“That I can’t tell you, but I met him in Bond Street yes- 
terday afternoon. He seemed to me to be looking uncom- 
monly well. Norway has agreed with him ; eh. Lady 
Phyllis ? We only exchanged a couple of words, and I 
didn’t mention this little engagement to him, you may 
be sure.” 

The tone of his speech offended his listener. 

“ There was no reason that you should not have done 
so,” she answered haughtily. “ My husband and I may 
elect to live in separate houses, but I shall never do any- 
thing that I should mind his hearing.” 

“Oh, no; of course not I You quite mistook my 
meaning,” responded the captain, in some confusion. 

“ Hateful man! ” thought Phyllis, as he deposited her 
at the door of her flat and took himself away. “ I’ll take 
good care this is the last time he ever escorts me any- 
where. How dared he speak as if I had made a clandes- 
tine assignation with him — ugly, red-haired creature ! 
I’ll tell John to say I’m not at home next time he calls.” 


AT THE ALHAMBRA. 


305 


Very few men would feel flattered could they hear the 
disparaging comments passed on their abilities and 
appearance by the unfair sex, when their backs are 
turned. Women are so greedy of admiration and atten- 
tion that they will accept both from men whom they 
utterly despise. But the latter are, as a rule, too con- 
ceited to be able to see through the dissimulation prac- 
ticed on them. They imagine the mere fact of being men 
entitles them to any amount of adulation on the part of 
the weaker portion of creation. 

As Lady Phyllis entered her beautiful rooms that even- 
ing, they looked very empty and unhome-like to her, 
though she could hardly say why. She felt cross and 
out of sorts, and refused the refreshments the footman 
offered her as pettishly as a naughty child. She went to 
bed with her head full of one idea ; Ronald was in Lon- 
don, actually within a few miles of her, and yet they had 
not met. How strange and unnatural it seemed ! But 
that was only because the notion was so new ; the feel- 
ing would wear off with time, and she would think of him 
no more than she did of Captain Rashleigh, or any other 
man. She dismissed Reynolds to her bed as soon as she 
could, but sat in her chair, long after the servant had 
left her, wrapped in thought, with her eyes fixed upon 
vacancy. When she rose, it was to walk into the dress- 
ing room, which adjoined her bedroom, and gaze at Roy, 
lying fast asleep, with his naked limbs uncovered, like a 
living Cupid. 

“Oh, my little boy, my little child,” thought Lady 
Phyllis, “what should I do if I lost you!” To see 
her standing there beside her child’s cot, with her long 
hair streaming down her shoulders, the tears in her eyes, 
and almost a prayerful expression on her beautiful face, 
one would have hardly recognized the girl who had spent 
the evening at a music hall with a man who was actually 
distasteful to her. 

Does the anomaly appear too startling to my readers ? 
Then they cannot know what a woman is, nor how 
variable her many moods. Souvent femme varief says 
a French poet, and our English Pope wrote, “Woman’s 
at best a contradiction still.” And strange to say, it is 


3o6 


AT HEART A RAKE. 


the true woman, the man’s woman, who is like that ; as 
variable as the wind, and never two seconds in the same 
mood. The woman who may be depended on for saying 
the right thing at the right moment may be very good, 
but she is never interesting. It is the uncertainty of 
woman that lends her her chief charm. I can see the 
elderly and steady ones shaking their heads over the 
' statement, but the fact remains. The women who 
enchain men longest are the women who lead them such 
a dance that they never know what the witches may do 
or say next. 


CHAPTER XXIII. 


AN UNEXPECTED VISITOR. 

After this little episode Phyllis began to feel rather 
uneasy. The knowledge that her husband was so near 
her, and yet she could not see him, harassed her. She 
was afraid to leave the flat lest she should meet him, and 
yet, as she drove out, her eyes searched the pavements 
on either side, in expectation of the event. She would 
have been happier could she have had her sister Helen 
with her at that crisis, but Nelly was unable to leave 
home just yet. Her letters were rather mysterious, 
though penned with a light heart. Mr. Frederick 
Arbuthnott was staying at Sedgeley and going over the 
silver-mine plans with the earl daily, and — Nelly did not 
say anything more, but Phyllis could guess the rest. 
Lord Lisnor would never have invited the young bar- 
rister to stay at the Manor, unless he had made up his 
mind on a more important subject than mines. So Phyl- 
lis was easy about her sister — though she had already 
begun to sigh a little for herself. A few more days 
brought evidence that Captain Rashleigh’s information 
was correct, in the shape of a letter from Macnaughten, 
sent through her solicitors, to intimate that he had 
returned to town, and should like to see Roy on a certain 
day in the following week. When the day arrived, Phyl- 
lis saw her little boy dressed in his best and dispatched 
under the charge of Reynolds to the house of his aunt, 
Mrs. Dallas. She dreaded what the servant might tell 
her on her return — she felt as if she could listen to noth- 
ing concerning Ronald from a third party with com- 
placency. So when the nurse began with the usual 
twaddle of how “ Master Roy, he behaved so beautiful 
when he see his papa,” etc., Phyllis stopped her at once. 

307 


3o8 


AT HEART A RAKE, 


“Please to understand, Reynolds, that I never wish to 
hear of anything that takes place in Delamere Gardens, 
nor do I wish you to speak of our doings while there. 
Master Roy goes there merely to visit Mr. Macnaughten, 
and your business begins and ends with taking him and 
bringing him home again.” 

And Reynolds, abashed, replied ; “Oh, of course, my 
lady — if it is your wish, my lady ! ” and carried off her 
charge to the nursery. 

One morning as Phyllis was sitting at her late break- 
fast, having been at a party the night before, the foot- 
man announced that a lady wished to speak to her. 
Phyllis raised her eyebrows as she repeated : 

“ A lady 2 But what is her name, John ? ” 

“I don’t know, my lady. The lady said you would 
know her when you see her, but she wouldn’t give no 
name.” 

“Ask her business with me. I cannot possibly admit 
anyone without hearing what she comes for.” 

The man disappeared again, but in another moment 
brought her a torn scrap of paper on which was scribbled 
the word, “Cissy.” Phyllis gave vent to an exclama- 
tion of delight. 

“ Show the lady in at once, John ! ” and then, as Mrs. 
Bernard made her appearance, she flew into her arms, 
exclaiming : 

“ Oh, my dear Cissy ! is this really you ? I have been 
longing to see you again. Where have you hidden 

yourself all this time ? Come in, dear, and sit down and 

tell me all about it. There is no bar to our meeting 

now, thank goodness ! This is my own flat, and you can 

come to it as often as you choose.” 

But Cissy made no return to this cordial greeting. The 
servant had left them together, but she looked around 
the room in a fearful, uncertain manner, and rather put 
her friend from her than encouraged her caresses. 

“Hush, Phyllis! not so loud, or someone might hear 
you. I feel your kindness, dear, but I cannot accept it. 
I will not even sit down in your room. You see that I 
was ashamed to send in my name.” 

“ But, my dear, that is nonsense. Why should you 


AN UNEXPECTED VISITOR. 309 

object, if I do not? I shall never turn against you, my 
poor Cissy. Besides, I am free to do as I choose now, 
in all things. I am separated from Mr. Macnaughten.” 

“Yes, yes ! I have heard it, or I should not be here. 
Oh, Phyllis ! go back to him before it is too late. It is so 
dangerous for a young woman to live apart from her 
husband. And people are talking unkindly about you, 
even now. I have come here this morning for that 
purpose only — to beg you to make it up with Mr. Mac- 
naughten before it is too late.” 

But Lady Phyllis drew herself up proudly. 

“It is already too late. The deed of separation was 
signed months ago. And I wonder at your counseling 
such a step. Cissy — you, who were so miserable in your 
married life that you felt compelled to leave it at all 
risks. Is it possible that you have already repented ? ” 

“No, no!” replied Mrs. Bernard hurriedly, “of 
course not — at least I don’t think I have. Jack is 
awfully good to me — and I couldn’t have stayed with the 
colonel, to save my life. Only, only — I have often 
thought since that it was an evil that might have been 
avoided. Surely, surely — there must have been some other 
way out of it. Government, who provides for the neces- 
sities of most of the people, might give a little more at- 
tention to the sufferings of women who have no way but 
one out of a miserable marriage. Ah ! how I suffered — 
how I suffered I ” said Cissy, with a convulsive shudder. 

Phyllis drew her little friend to the light. She was 
very much altered. The small face, always so childlike, 
was now almost pinched with pain. The large dark 
eyes had evidently shed many tears, from the purple 
rings that underlay them. Her complexion was almost 
ghastly in its pallor, and she shrank from observation 
like a beaten dog. 

“ My dear Cissy ! ” cried Phyllis compassionately, 
“you are not happy, and you look very ill. Is there any- 
thing the matter with you ? Surely, Captain Austin is 
sufficiently well off to give you all that you require.” 

Cissy laughed. It was painful to see her laugh. It 
was like a smile on the face of a starved corpse. 

“Oh, yes, dear ; I have all that I can require, and I 


310 


AT HEART A RAKE. 


am well enough in health, though a doctor did tell me 
the other day that I am on the highroad to a consump- 
tion. But it isn’t that ! It’s seeing how I have pulled 
Jack down. He has had to leave his regiment, Phyllis, 
and none of his people will receive him, because of me. 
And it tells on him. He is a good-hearted fellow and 
will not reproach me, but I can see it all the same. He 
has not half the spirits he used to have, and he scarcely 
ever goes anywhere. As for me, I am of course a pariah. 
And the divorce cannot come on till next spring. It 
seems such an eternity to wait.” 

But Captain Austin will mary you then. Cissy, dear, 
and then it will be all right. You must have patience. 
I am so glad to hear that he is good to you.” 

‘‘Oh, yes! he is good to me — very good,” replied 
Cissy, with a pathetic smile. “But, oh, Phyllis ! take 
warning. Don’t bring yourself down to my level. Go 
back to your husband — he was never cruel to you as 
mine was — and ask him to take you back before things 
have gone too far.” 

“ My dear child, you don’t know what you are talking 
of. I don’t want to go back to him. I like my liberty 
too well. There are different sorts of cruelty. Cissy. It 
is not necessary for a man to beat a woman, to break 
her heart.” 

“ But you loved each other so,” urged Mrs. Bernard. 

“Everybody seems to know more about that than I 
do,” exclaimed Lady Phyllis, with an air of vexation. 
“I really do not think we did. We thought so, doubt- 
less — everybody does, at first — but it soon melted away, 
and now, we are much happier apart than together. I 
have been having a ‘high old time ’ in England, while 
my gentleman has been on the sea with his beloved 
friends the Leytons. It would disappoint us exceedingly 
to live together again. ” 

“ I don’t believe it, Phyllis,” said Cissy doggedly. “ I 
don’t believe that you even thmk yourselves happy apart. 
I expect you found your life monotonous, and you mis- 
took that for misery. Monotony is the curse of mar- 
riage, Phyllis. It is seldom real misery that people feel. 
It is infinite boredom — the being chained, day after day. 


AN UNEXPECTED FIS/TOP. 31 1 

and night after night, to the companionship of one man 
or one woman. Life requires variety to be life. If only 
we could trust each other more, love would live so 
much longer than it does.” 

“ Mine is dead enough — dead as a doornail,” said Lady 
Phyllis, with a hard laugh. 

“I don’t believe it,” repeated Cissy; ‘‘I think it is 
only sleeping. Wake it up, dear Phyllis. Don’t try to 
live the rest of your life alone. Think what a long one 
it may be. And at the last comes a lonely, desolate old 
age. Make your mind up that it shall cease. See Mr. 
Macnaughten when he comes back from Norway.” 

He is back already. Roy went to see him last 
week.” 

“Then write to him. I only came to say that one 
thing. Stop these scandalous tongues that are lying 
away your fair fame, and go back to your husband. ” 

“ Never ! ” cried Lady Phyllis emphatically, “ never ! ” 

“ Promise me to think over it,” urged Mrs. Bernard 
earnestly. “ I cannot bear to think of the many tempta- 
tion that will come in your way, my dear, kind, beautiful 
Phyllis. And for your little boy’s sake, too — how will 
you feel if he is taken from you just as he begins to be 
interesting and to know what his mother’s love for 
him means ? ” 

Phyllis’ lip quivered, as she replied: 

“ I will at least promise you to think of it, but there is 
not the least chance of either I or Mr. Macnaughten 
changing our minds. But don’t go yet, dear. Stay and 
share my breakfast. It is not yet twelve.” 

“No, dear Phyllis; thank you. Someone might 
come in. I am awfully frightened of being seen nowa- 
days, even by a servant,” said Cissy, with her pitiful little 
laugh, “and I never go anywhere — indeed this is the 
first time I have ventured out of doors for three weeks.” 

“Well, you must come to see me sometimes, or I shall 
be angry with you. Have you been to the Pushahead 
Club?” 

Cissy’s big eyes opened* wide with surprise at the 
question. 

“As if I should^"' she said. “ But I met Miss Vipan a 


312 


AT HEART A RAKE. 


few weeks back and she told me I had been expelled. 
Did you hear that, Phyllis ? ” 

I did, Cissy, and I left the club in consequence. Its 
practice differs too widely from its preaching for me. I 
did not care to belong to it any longer.” 

“I was half sorry when you joined it,” said her friend. 
“Jack always said you looked like a bird of Paradise 
among a lot of crows. He would not let me belong to it 
now, even if they would have me.” 

“ And where do you live. Cissy ? ” 

“I shall not tell you,” said Cissy, shaking her curly 
head; “ because you must not visit me — I will not let 
you. If times are ever better, perhaps, my dear, good 
faithful friend, I may — I don’t say I shall — take advantage 
of your goodness to me. But now good-by. I know 
what Jack will say when I tell him of all you have said to 
me — that you are an angel.” 

“I am afraid Jack’s ideas of angels then must have 
been taken from the pictures of the little devils with horns 
and tails,” replied Lady Phyllis, laughing as she kissed 
her friend and bid her farewell, with many an injunction 
that she was to come back and see her again, very, very 
soon. But this interview with Cissy Bernard made 
Phyllis very thoughtful and somewhat distressed. This 
young woman had claimed her right to judge and act for 
herself, with a vengeance, but it did not seem to have 
been very successful. Phyllis had been too proud to ask 
Cissy whatxX. was that evil tongues were saying of herself, 
but she had heard too much scandal of others not to be 
able to give a good guess at it. She was in the full swing 
of her coveted freedom at this time, going out day after 
day, and night after night, when she liked — where she 
liked — and with whom she liked — for there is always 
plenty of amusement in London for such as care to seek 
it. But she could not conscientiously say that she was 
as happy as she had hoped to be. Something was sadly 
wanting — though she fiercely denied that it was the 
company of her husband. She yearned for some faithful 
friend in whom she might rfepose implicit confidence, 
without fear of ridicule or blame. She wanted her 
sister Nelly, and wrote rather reproachfully to Sedgeley 


AN UNEXPECTED VISITOR. 313 

because her promised visit was so long delayed. What 
was her surprise to receive in return a letter from her 
father, calling her an ungrateful cat, and informing her 
that Frederick Arbuthnott was not only staying at the 
Manor House, but engaged to Lady Helen, and the wed- 
ding was to take place as soon as possible. 

“It’s all your doing, my Lady Phyllis [wrote the earl], 
so if it turns out as sorry a business as your own, I 
shall expect you to pay the piper. The young man cer- 
tainly improves on near acquaintance, and he has satis- 
fied me that he can keep the girl better than I can. I 
wish it had been Camilla or Winifred, instead of my good 
Nelly, but it is one more off my hands, so I ought to 
sing Te Deum. I believe it was a put-up job between 
Arbuthnott and Nell (or perhaps you have had a finger 
in the pie), but he declared he could not spare the time to 
go out to Mexico and see after my mines, unless he made 
it his wedding trip, and killed two birds with one stone, 
so I believe they have settled to start in two months’ 
time. Nelly is writing you full particulars of how he 
looked, and what he said, etc., after the manner of your 
mean sex, so I will leave the rest of the news to her, and 
am your affectionate father 

“ Lisnor. 

“ P. S. Any tidings of your scamp ? ” 

Nelly’s letter, to which Phyllis turned next, was full of 
gratitude to her dear sister for having worked the oracle 
so successfully on her behalf and expressions of thank- 
fulness to Heaven for the supreme blessing of the love 
of Frederick Arbuthnott. Lady Phyllis rejoiced in the 
good news, but she cried as she read it. It seemed so 
hard that Nelly should be happy, and through her means, 
while she was so very sad — that she had been able to 
compass her sister’s good fortune while her own was 
irrevocably wrecked. Her engagement to Ronald Mac- 
naughten, consented to by the earl after much opposi- 
tion, had given her just as much pleasure as this; she, 
too, had hoped, or rather confidently expected, that 
her future life would be one long dream of bliss. And 


314 


AT HEART A RAHE. 


here she was at two-and-twenty, worse than a widow, 
because unprotected and unable to marry again. But at 
that thought Phyllis shuddered — the way in which the 
mere notion of Ronald’s death affected her should have 
opened her eyes to the farce she was enacting, but none 
are so blind as they who will not see. Lady Phyllis’ 
remedy against the sad thoughts that would sometimes 
intrude themselves upon her gayety was always Roy. 
She seemed to turn to her little son to drive away her 
melancholy. So now she cast her letters to one side, 
and called to Reynolds to dress the little man for walking, 
as she was going to take him across the Gardens to call 
on Mrs. Warrington and tell her the good news. Roy 
was very proud to go out with his mamma, but he dragged 
at her hand and fatigued her, and when they entered the 
Broad Walk, she let him run on in front, while she 
sauntered slowly behind, musing on the topics which 
interested her most. Presently she heard the child 
ejaculating her name, and looking up, saw him advancing 
to meet her, with his hand fast clasped in that of Miss 
Vipan. The sight considerably annoyed her. 

“ I have brought Master Roy back to you,” exclaimed 
the shrill voice of the secretary. ‘‘Pie was quite too far 
ahead. It is not always safe for such very young gentle- 
men to run about the Park by themselves.” 

“Thanks !” replied Phyllis coldly, “but I believe I am 
quite capable of taking care of my own child. He was 
perfectly safe. I never miss sight of him.” 

“Well, / couldn’t see you, and I really did not know 
if he was by himself or not. He does not speak very 
plainly. What age is he ? ” 

“Three,” said Phyllis curtly. 

“Bless me ! You don’t say so. Why, my brother has 
a little girl of only three and a half and she can read 
words of one syllable without the slightest difficulty.” 

“ Really ! ” 

“ I was so sorry for that business at the club, last 
committee day,” went on Miss Vipan confidentially; “ it 
would never have occurred without Miss Noble. She is 
really the most spiteful creature on the face of the earth. 
I have always said so. Her animus against poor Mrs. 


AN UNEXPECTED VISITOR. 315 

Bernard was all because she is so pretty. Don’t you 
agree with me ? ” 

“If you ask my opinion, Miss Vipan, I thought the 
committee were unanimous in voting that her name should 
be struck off the books. I do not say if it was just or 
unjust — but it was not what I had expected.” 

“ It was a thousand pities you resigned. They will 
regret it to the last day of their lives. They are already 
discussing how they can get you back again. But I had 
no hand in it, Lady Phyllis. You must please to exoner- 
ate me. The secretary has no vote, remember.” 

“ Indeed, I never asked the question.” 

“Oh, dear, no ! My duties are simply secretarial. 
And all my feelings point the other way. You should 
have heard the battles I have fought in your defense, 
lately. You would not require to ask on which side I 
am, then.” 

“ In 7ny defense ?” exclaimed Lady Phyllis proudly. 

“Yes, certainly. Oh, you have more enemies than 
you think for. But whenever I have heard unkind 
allusions made to your gentlemen friends, or hints about 
Lord Percy Sefton being so intimate at your house, I 
always stand up for you and ask them what proof they 
have of their scandal. Lord Percy, I say, is her own 
cousin by the father’s side, and who has a better right to 
be with her now that she is alone and unprotected ? 
Why, a cousin is next door to a brother, isn’t he ? and 
when they titter and suggest that cousins can marry all 
the same, I tell them it must be thei^ own evil thoughts 
that put such an idea into their heads.” 

Phyllis was so indignant at this speech that for some 
moments she could not command her voice sufficiently to 
reply without showing what she felt, but when she had 
somewhat recovered herself, she said : 

“Miss Vipan, it is nothing to me what people say or 
think about me, neither do I care to hear it repeated. It 
is extremely good of you to take up weapons in my behalf, 
but I wish you would not trouble yourself to do so again, 
as I am perfectly able to take care of my name and repu- 
tation; and were I not so, my father Lord Lisnor would 
be the proper person to resent the insult.” 


3i6 


AT HEART A RAKE, 


She spoke with such quiet sarcasm that most people 
would have refrained from irritating her further, but 
busybodies like Miss Vipan can never take a hint. They 
are not thin-skinned enough. They will allow themselves 
to be snubbed and brow-beaten, again and again, and still 
return to the attack. 

*‘Ah ! but the earl will never hear it — that’s just the 
way with scandal-mongers; they slink round the corner 
directly they are likely to be brought to book. Now, as 
I was saying to Lady Alexander the other day, what could 
have been quieter or more discreet than your conduct 
while you were in the Pushahead. I don’t think you ever 
introduced a gentleman there once. But then she — and 
fancy, my dear Lady Phyllis, a woman like that presuming 
to question the actions of anyone — insinuated directly 
that ‘ still waters ran deep ’ and that she would rather 
trust a woman who carried on her flirtations openly, a 
dozen times over, than one who knew how to keep her 
own counsel. So ill-natured and unladylike ! But I gave 
her my mind about it, you may rest assured of that. I 
told her you had a right now to do exactly as you thought 
fit, and it would be a very strange thing if a beautiful 
young woman like yourself had not a swarm of admirers 
round her, and it was Mr. Macnaughten’s business and 
that of no one else. Was I not right ?” looking up with 
her little keen ferrety eyes into Phyllis’ face, which was 
working with rage and suppressed emotion. 

Quite right ! ” she said, after a pause, “ so right that 
I shall be obliged if you will carry out your principles in 
your own person, and leave my private affairs alone for 
the future. What I do, or do not do, concerns you no 
more than it does Lady Alexander Fox, or any other 
member of the Pushahead Club. Good-morning,” and 
Phyllis attempted to pass Miss Vipan and pursue her way 
alone. But the little scandal-monger was not to be 
shaken off so easily. She trotted alongside of her victim 
while she kept on chattering: 

“ But you would not have me keep silence when I hear 
a friend’s character attacked, would you ? ” 

“ I do not consider you my friend. Miss Vipan.” 

“But I am^2\\ the same, and you can’t prevent it. 


UNEXPECTED FI SI TOP. 317 

When I have once made a friend, I never let her go. I 
am true as steel to those I love. And I told you the first 
time we met that we should see a great deal of each 
other. I think you should take some means to stop Miss 
Noble’s tongue. She heard that you called her book 
indecent, and it has made her very revengeful toward 
you. She spread the news all over the club last week 
that you had been seen in some improper place with Cap- 
tain Rashleigh, who she says is a well-known roue about 
town, and that if Mr. Macnaughten got wind of the affair, 
it would mean the divorce court. Now that is libellous, 
you know, and I should speak to my solicitor about it, if 
I were you. Of course, as I said, it is not likely that you 
would go to any place where a lady could not go; and as 
to the gentleman, perhaps you do not know the reputa- 
tion he bears; or, if you do, you are on your guard against 
him. But I only repeat it to show you what ill-natured 
things people do say, and how they make a mountain out 
of a molehill, when one has excited their spleen. I don’t 
suppose they would have dared to say a word about you, 
or at least not openly, if you had not thrown up the vice 
presidentship of the club.” 

But this proved a trifle too much for Phyllis’ forbear- 
ance. She turned upon the little woman by her side, as 
if she would have slain her. 

“ Plow dare you,” she said, “ repeat these libels to me ? 
Do you not see that if I chose to consult my solicitor con- 
cerning them, as you suggest, that you would have to 
come forward as a witness against those who uttered 
them, and then you would lose your club friends as well 
as myself? Look here. Miss Vipan; understand me once 
for all. I do not wish to hear you, nor see you ever 
again, and if you persist in annoying me by intruding 
yourself on my notice, I will take more stringent means 
to rid myself of you. I do not care one pin what you or 
your club associates say or think of me, but I will not be 
annoyed by listening to your repetitions. So be good 
enough to leave me alone, and do not presume to speak 
to me when we may next meet, for I decline to know you 
henceforward.” 

“You will repent it. Lady Phyllis Macnaughten!” 


AT HEART A RAKE. 


318 

replied Miss Vipan, livid with rage, ‘‘ you will repent you 
ever spoke those words to me ! ” 

“I could repent nothing more than putting myself in 
the way of your malevolent tongue,” said Lady Phyllis, 
as at last she managed to get rid of her tormentor. 

But though she told herself that it was of no con- 
sequence, and that she did not care what anybody might 
say of her, women do care about such things, and will con- 
tinue to care till time ends. She walked on rapidly till 
she had reached Mrs. Warrington’s door, but when she 
was ushered into the presence of her friend she found 
herself totally incapable of speaking, and ended by burst- 
ing into a flood of tears. Mrs. Warrington was the sort 
of woman that no one minded breaking down before or 
telling one’s trouble to; and before long she had heard 
how her girl-friend’s pride had been wounded, and 
soothed it with just the kindly balm that was needed. 
They had a long confidential talk on the subject, and 
Lady Phyllis found the counsel which she needed in her 
perplexity. Of course the engagement which promised 
so much happiness to the people dear to them was fully 
discussed, but the other matter was not neglected, and 
when Lady Phyllis returned home that day it was with a 
full determination to write to Ronald and tell him of her 
annoyance. Why should she not, she argued ? He had 
told her at parting to consider him as a friend — to con- 
sider, indeed, that they parted because they were friends 
and wished each other well. He could not think it 
strange, then, if she elected to consult him as to what she 
should do to stop the vile tongues that were gossiping 
away her fair fame. Her fame concerned him as much as 
herself — he was the proper person to take up the cudgels 
on her behalf and bring the offenders to book, and Phyllis 
was so conscious of her own innocence that she never 
doubted but that Macnaughten would accept the story as 
she chose to tell it him. She sat down therefore and 
wrote him a letter — brief, and not more than friendly — in 
which she told him that she needed his counsel and assist- 
ance, and depended on his parting promise to afford it 
her. She asked him to say when and where she could 
meet him, as the story was too long to put on paper. She 


A AT UNEXPECTED VISITOR. 3^9 

was conscious of a quickening at her heart as she wrote 
this request and imagined what it would be to see him 
and to speak to him again. But she had nowhere to send 
her letter but to his solicitors’, and in reply she received 
an intimation that Mr. Macnaughten had quitted town 
again without leaving any address, but that as soon as he 
returned it should be forwarded to him. Meanwhile the 
days and weeks slipped away until another month had run 
its course, and still Phyllis had received no answer to 
her letter. 


CHAPTER XXIV. 


THE AFTERMATH. 

It is surprising how two people who know each other 
may live in London year after year and yet not meet, 
except by appointment. Lady Phyllis did not see Mac- 
naughten in the Park nor the streets, nor did she hear 
from him; and nothing would induce her to make a second 
appeal to his generosity. She chose to believe that he 
had received her letter, — he must have received it by that 
time, she argued, — and since he had not taken the trouble 
to answer it, it meant, perhaps, that he also had heard the 
vile slanders which were circulated concerning her and 
believed them, or did not care if they were true or false. 
Lord Charteris had made her almost break down one day 
by making some insinuations about Ronald and a French 
singer who had lately appeared at the Empire and taken 
the town by storm. She had persuaded herself then, 
after deliberation, that his lordship’s story had been 
merely rumor, but she did not say the same thing now. 
There must be some reason for her husband paying no 
attention to her letter — what so likely as that that “ some- 
thing” was another woman, with whom he was too much 
occupied to have time or inclination to think of his wife ? 
It was evident that she and her affairs were of quite 
secondary importance to Ronald. 

Meanwhile the preparations for Lady Helen’s marriage 
with Mr. Arbuthnott were going on at Sedgeley, and 
Phyllis took great pleasure in selecting such presents as 
she thought her favorite sister would appreciate, and 
which she intended to take with her when she attended 
the wedding a month hence. She was coming out of a 
fur store in Waterloo Place one day, where she had been 
choosing a costly mantle which she hoped would be use- 


320 


THE AFTERMATH. 


321 


ful to Nelly on her projected voyage, when she caught 
sight of her husband on the opposite side of the street. She 
was certain it was he. She could not mistake his slight, 
graceful figure, nor the proud way in which he carried 
his head. The sight almost took her breath away. She 
forgot in one moment all her conclusions regarding his 
want of attention to her wishes; she only felt that he was 
there, back in town, close at hand, and that she must 
speak to him. Women are seldom at a loss in -an emer- 
gency. In a moment Lady Phyllis had turned to her 
coachman and desired him not to keep the horses stand- 
ing any longer, as she should not be ready for another 
half hour, but to drive them up to Portland Place and 
back again. The man touched his hat with his whip in 
token of having understood the order, the footman re- 
sumed his place on the box, and the carriage whirled out 
of sight. Almost as soon as it started Phyllis gathered 
up her skirts and ran across the road in pursuit of her 
husband. She was acting on impulse as usual, she did 
not consider what she was doing, she only knew that 
Ronald was there and she must see him and speak to him, 
if she died for it. 

Mr. Macnaughten, who was on his way to his club, 
became aware of a swift footstep following his own, but 
had hardly stopped to consider if it was in pursuit of him, 
when he felt a light touch on his arm. He turned sud- 
denly and saw his wife standing beside him, with her lips 
parted from the exertion she had made, and her large 
hazel eyes beaming upon him, wide open with excitement. 
The sight was so unexpected that it paralyzed him. He 
turned as white as a sheet, and was quite unable to articu- 
late a syllable. The parting with her had been so bitter, 
the meeting was so unexpected. 

Ronald ! ” she panted, as much from repressed excite- 
ment as from exertion ; ‘‘Ronald, pray speak to me — I 
must speak to you — I have something very particular 
to say." 

“But why — why," he questioned in his first surprise, 
“could you not write ? " 

“ I have written and I have had no answer," she said, 
almost crying ; “I suppose you have not received my 


322 


AT HEART A RAKE. 


letter, but Oh, do wait and hear what I have to say 

to you now ! ” 

But by this time Macnaughten’s natural reserve and 
self-command had returned to him. 

“ Not here, Phyllis," he replied ; “this is no place for 
private conversation, but if " 

“Will you come home to my place with me ? I live 
at " 

“I do not want to know where you live," he inter- 
rupted her; “I have purposely refused the information, 
so please do not tell me. It can be of no moment to 
either of us. But if you feel equal to walking a little 
way in the Park, we can speak to each other there." 

“Oh, yes, I can walk — miles, if you like," replied 
Phyllis, with her old impetuosity. “ I hope you don’t 
mind coming a little out of your way; but it is something 
of importance." 

“I do not mind," he answered quietly, as they com- 
menced to walk down to St. James’ Park side by side. 
“ But you are not walking by yourself, surely," he added, 
with some concern. 

“Oh, no; I sent the carriage on a little. I did not 
want the servants to see me stop you. They might have 
thought I was slightly improper," said Phyllis, with a 
little laugh. 

“I trust that under any circumstances they could 
never think that/’ he returned gravely. 

“ I was shopping at the fur stores," went on his wife 
rapidly, “when I caught sight of you on the other side 
of the way. And oh, Ronald, what do you think ? Nelly 
is to be married next month to Mr. Frederick Arbuth- 
nott ! ’’ 

“ Indeed ! And is that a matter of congratulation ? ’’ 

“ I don’t know about congratulation, but they are very 
happy. But so were we at first." 

“ Phyllis," said Macnaughten gravely, “if you really 
have something of importance to say, please to say it and 
have done with it. You must know that this interview 
can be productive of pleasure to neither of us. It is use- 
less to prolong it more than is absolutely necessary. 
What is your business with me?" 


THE AFTERMATH. 


323 


“Just what I wrote in my letter a month ago,” said 
Lady Phyllis, with a moue of her rebellious little mouth. 

“ But I have received no letter from you, so you must 
please to tell me what you mean by word of mouth.” 

“Not received it?” cried Phyllis. “What can that 
old booby Arbuthnott mean by not forwarding it to 
you ? ” 

“ Stop ! Don't blame the wrong person. I have been 
in Paris, and did not leave any address behind me. I 
only returned last week and have not yet communicated 
the fact to your solicitors, so you see the fault, if any, 
lies with me.” 

“And why did you not leave your address ?” demanded 
Phyllis, with something of the old wifely authority. 

“Am I obliged to answer that question ? ” said Mac- 
naughten. “I had divers reasons ; one being, perhaps, 
that I did not wish to be followed by letters which could 
• give me no pleasure to read. You must allow a man a 
little time in which to court forgetfulness, Phyllis.” 

“In company, I suppose, of Mile. Lalage,” she re- 
torted, with an air of offense. 

“ Lalage ! What on earth do you mean by connecting 
my name with that of one of the most notorious women 
in town ? ” 

“On the authority of your great chum. Lord Char- 
teris,” replied Phyllis. “It was he who told me that she 
was a particular friend of yours, and that young Hindes 
had had supper with you in her company at your own 
chambers, wherever they may be.” 

“Then Charteris told you the biggest lie that ever 
passed his lips,” replied her husband angrily, “and if 
Hindes said that he ought to be kicked. No one has 
ever supped with me in my chambers, for the very good 
reason that I have none. I am looking out for some at 
the present moment, and have stayed hitherto, when in 
town, with my sister Mrs. Dallas. So you see the whole 
story is a fabrication.” 

“ People will say anything to get themselves listened 
to, I do believe,” said Phyllis, with a little less assur- 
ance. “ Just see what they have dared to say about me. 
Oh, I forgot ! you have not received my letter.” 


324 


AT HEART A RAKE. 


“What was it about, then? Why did you write to 
me ? ” asked Macnaughten, with his eyes upon the 
ground, though his wife looked up to his face all the 
while. 

“Well, when we agreed to separate, Ronald, you must 
remember that you said we were to continue friends, or 
else I shouldn’t have troubled you. But women are such 
wretches ! What do you think they have been saying 
now — that Percy Sefton is much oftener at my house than 
he should be, and, if you will believe me, I have only 
seen him once since we parted.” 

“ I do believe you,” replied her husband, “ for he has 
spoken to me about it, poor fellow ! and made me ashamed 
that I should ever have made a disparaging remark, even 
in jest, of such a little gentleman. Sefton and I are great 
friends now, Phyllis; in fact, he was in Paris with me, and 
I feel I cannot do too much to make up to him for having 
wounded his sense of honor as I have done.” , 

“ But it is not only Percy — they say I have been seen 
at an improper place, with Captain Rashleigh, and that 
he is a known rou ^ — and that I have a swarm of men 
always round m<p— and it is not true, Ronald,” continued 
Lady Phyllis excitedly; “ they are infamous falsehoods, 
and the people who circulate them should be exposed 
and punished.” 

“And who are the people who so slander you, 
Phyllis ? ” asked Macnaughten, half amused at her angry 
vehemence. 

“Those abominable creatures at the Pushahead Club. 

I have left it, Ronald, I threw up my vice presidentship 
and refused to belong to them any longer — and they 
say all sorts of things against me now, for revenge. 
Spiteful, horrid women! And fancy, even Lady Alex- 
ander Fox has the impudence to join her voice to the 
rest — and say that I flirt a great deal too openly. Lady 
Alexander Fox! It is really too funny! Why, she is not 
fit to be known by any decent woman! ” 

Ronald Macnaughten, being a man, did not remind his 
wife at this juncture that he had told her the same thing 
long before. He only said very quietly: 

“ Well, and what is it then that I can do for you ? ” 


THE AFTERMATH. 


325 


“Stop these horrid scandals. Tell the people who 
spread them'that you will have them up for libel. If you 
deny them, the world will know they must be false.” 

“ Not necessarily. And were I to deny these to-day, 
more would crop up to-morrow. I am afraid they are 
unavoidable. When husband and wife part the world 
will gossip, and it would be impossible to make it believe 
that there is not some stronger reason for such a step 
than mere incompatibility of temper.” 

“But it is a falsehood!” cried Lady Phyllis hotly; 
“you know it is — it must be — that I have ever cared 
for any man, since — since ” 

“Since you were so deluded as to imagine that you 
cared for me.” 

“No, I was not deluded — neither of us was,” she 
answered frankly. “We did care very much at the time, 
only ” 

“We mutually found out that we were not worth 
caring for, and so you, for one, grew tired of pretend- 
ing ” 

“Well, I suppose it must have been so, but I shall 
never care for anybody so much again. Do you remem- 
ber the first time we met, Ronald ? ” 

“ I have forgotten nothing, Phyllis, but it has ceased 
to give me any pleasure to remember. Please not to 
allude to such things. They are past and can never be 
recalled. And they are not a pleasant contrast to the 
present.” 

“Yet I wish ” said Lady Phyllis. 

“ What is the use of wishing now ? ” 

“ I wish that we had been older. I think we might 
have managed things better.” 

“ I do not think our youth had anything to do with it. 
I see where the fault lay. We saw too much of one 
another. We were sickened with each other’s society.” 

“ But people who really love cannot see too much of one 
another.” 

“I have learned they can. Toujours perdrix is a mis- 
take all the world over. If men and women were wise 
and did not exhaust their resources, mental and physical, 
so soon, their admiration and esteem would last longer. 


326 


AT HEART A RAKE. 


Our minds require friction with larger minds in order to 
breed fresh ideas. I feel sure of that now.” 

“ Have you been trying the experiment ? ” asked Lady 
Phyllis. 

“ In a measure,” he replied. 

“ And has it answered ? ” 

“In a measure,” he repeated; “but how can we ex- 
pect anything to answer with either of us now ? We 
have wrecked our lives. We are like a broken pitcher 
that can never be mended again. We have lost the road 
to perfection. Each of us must be a unit while time 
lasts, unless indeed Death mercifully frees one of us 
from a chain that galls without binding. But this is idle 
talk. You have asked me what I can do for you, in this 
social dilemma, Phyllis, and I fear I must answer, nothing. 
You have elected to look after yourself, and I am sure 
you are quite capable of so doing. Either bear the 
brunt of your sex’s malice without shrinking, or do away 
with the cause of it. I can give you no better advice.” 

“I am sorry I troubled you, then,” replied Phyllis, 
trying her utmost to keep back the proud tears that 
had risen to her eyes; “but I will not detain you longer. 
I see that your offer of friendship was only a sham. The 
first time I claim it, it fails me,” and she turned in order 
to retrace her steps to Waterloo Place. Macnaughten 
followed on her heels, for a moment, in silence. 

“Don’t say that, Phyllis,” he replied presently; “don’t 
think it. Were you in need of friendship and required 
mine, you would not find it fail you. But you ask me 
what is impossible — to deny facts.” 

“Facts! ” she exclaimed angrily. 

“Is it not a fact that you accompanied Rashleigh 
alone to the Alhambra ? You see people are not slow to 
repeat things to me. Does Rashleigh bear a good 
character among women, and is the Alhambra a proper 
place for my wife to be seen in ? You know how often 
I refused to take you there myself. You are your own 
mistress now, and I do not pretend to direct what you 
shall or shall not do. Only, it is impossible for me to 
go forth like Don Quixote and tilt at a shadow. The 
antagonist I should want to engage would be the man 


THE AFTERMATH. 327 

who took you there — not the ladies who said it was an 
improper thing to do.” 

“Oh, you are against me, as you always were,” cried 
Lady Phyllis, in a muffled voice, as she hurried to the 
spot where her carriage was waiting for her. 

Macnaughten handed her into it as courteously as he 
had been wont to do in the days of old, and stood on the 
pavement, bare-headed, until she had driven off. But 
Phyllis did not see him. As soon as she found herself 
alone, she sunk as far back as the cushions would permit 
her, and gave vent to her mortification in silent tears. 

From that date she resolved that she would never 
write to her husband or notice him in any possible way. 
She would live her life as he evidently wished she should 
do — alone. 

She attended her sister’s wedding in due course, and 
did her best not to let her own trouble intrude, like 
Banquo’s ghost, upon the marriage feast. But they all 
remarked at Sedgeley how thin Phyllis had grown, and 
how much larger and more wistful her hazel eyes seemed 
to be. Perhaps Lady Helen, in the selfishness of an all- 
engrossing passion, did not notice the difference in Lady 
Phyllis so much as the older sisters did; but it was a 
common remark down at the Manor House, even after 
the bride and bridegroom had started on their honey- 
moon to Mexico and Phyllis had rejoined her little Roy 
in Kensington Palace Mansions. 

The suites of rooms in that locality were built in pairs 
on every floor, and the first news Reynolds had to give 
Lady Phyllis, on her return home, was that the flat 
opposite her own had been let and was being furnished 
in handsome style. It was taken by a single gentleman, 
the servant went on to say, but the workmen did not 
know his name. She continued to give descriptions of 
the suite of morocco and the suite of saddle-backs, and 
the beautiful carpets and the splendid pictures and the 
luxurious bedroom fittings that had arrived until Phyllis 
was weary of her gossip and begged her to cease. The 
position and possessions of this gentleman, she averred, 
were of no possible interest to her, and she was tired with 
her journey from Hillford and wished to rest. 


328 


AT HEART A RAKE. 


So the garrulous nurse, somewhat offended in her 
dignity, withdrew with her charge and left her weary 
mistress alone. Ah! if her attendants and friends had 
only known how weary she had grown of late, and how 
dissatisfied with herself and everything around her, they 
would have been surprised. She felt as if the taste had 
gone out of everything on earth, and sometimes turned 
away even from the contemplation of her child, simply 
because he reminded her so painfully of his father. She 
scarcely gave a second thought to the stranger who had 
taken up his residence in the flat opposite to hers, and 
certainly felt no curiosity on the subject, until one morn- 
ing, as she was going out rather earlier than usual with 
little Roy, and had stepped outside her own door, the 
handle turned of that on the other side of the landing, 
and to her amazement her husband stood before her. 
Roy gave vent to a scream of delight and rushed at his 
father’s legs, but his mother stood silent and motionless, 
not knowing what to do or say. In a moment the old 
scandal had rushed into her mind, and she fancied that 
Macnaughten could not be living in so large a flat, alone. 
He seemed as paralyzed by the encounter as herself. 

“Are you living here?” he exclaimed; “can this be 
actually your residence?” His nervousness gave her 
courage. 

“It is,” she answered; “awkward, is it not ? But, 
doubtless, you were only visiting an acquaintance.” 

“No, no I ” he stammered, while the child clung to his 
legs, shouting, “Papa, papa ! ” — and then he continued; 
“But I did not know — I had no idea — I would have gone 
to the other end of London, sooner tha.. have ap- 
peared ” 

“You mean to say, then, that you do live opposite — 
that you are the gentleman who, we were informed, had 
taken the flat — well, what if you have ? It won’t poison 
you to live on the same floor as myself, I suppose. There 
is no necessity for any communication between us. You 
need not alarm yourself. I shall not be the one to intrude 
on you now or ever. Come, Roy; we must go for our 
walk,” and Lady Phyllis tried to detach the child from 
his father. But Roy would not let go, but continued to 


THE AFTERMATH. 3^9 

wail: ‘‘ Papa, papa ! take Roy with ’oo! Mamma go by 
herself, Roy stay with papa.” 

It was an awkward dilemma — the boy vehemently 
refusing to quit hold of his father, and his mother 
obliged to entreat and coax without avail. At last, losing 
patience and fancying maybe that Macnaughten was 
enjoying her perplexity, she pulled Master Roy so vio- 
lently away that he began to roar lustily and she was 
compelled to take him back into her own rooms. She 
bowed to Macnaughten, as she disappeared, in order to 
prove how completely she was at her ease, and then she 
slammed the door and he saw her no more. 

He did not know what to do — the discovery of who 
was his opposite neighbor had worried him quite as much 
as it had done Phyllis. His was a sensitive nature, and 
he feared lest she should think it had been a plot on his 
part, and that he had known of her vicinity; whereas he 
had never had the least idea of it, and would have gone, 
as he said, to the other end of the town sooner than 
have settled down beside her. He returned to his own 
quarters and thence wrote her a letter in which he told 
her the truth, and offered to give up his flat at once and 
move elsewhere if she had the least objection to his living 
so near to her. The answer he received was as follows : 

cannot see what earthly difference it can make if 
we live under the same roof or twenty miles apart. We 
shall be as separated on the opposite sides of this landing 
as if you were in Kamchatka. The only awkwardness 
about it is with regard to the child, but I have been 
obliged to confide the fact of your proximity to Reynolds, 
and she will guard against any more encounters like that 
of this morning. At the same time, if you would like Roy 
to visit your rooms at any time, you have only to say so. 
It may be more convenient for you than going to meet 
him in Delamere Gardens. Don’t forget that we have 
promised to remain friends, and of course, in any little 
matter like the above, I am only too pleased to fall in 
with your wishes. 


“ Yours, 


Phyllis.” 


330 


AT HEART A RAKE. 


“ Yours — yours — ” groaned Macnaughten, after having 
read this letter, as he laid his head on the table — “what 
a mockery ! And she thinks it is no worse to live on the 
same floor with me than if I were in Kamchatka. That 
is a woman all over. I don’t believe they have any real 
feeling, or know what the pangs of such a separation as 
this mean. ‘ The only awkwardness about it is with 
regard to the child.’ That’s it! That’s the only 
awkwardness — well, well ! I was a fool ever to dream 
she cared for me as I cared — no ! as 1 do care, God help 
me ! — for her ! ” 

But he did not change his lodgings, all the same. He 
received an excellent offer to do so from the agent to 
whom he had mentioned the possibility of his moving 
again, but he declined it at once, and told the man that 
he had changed his mind. He cast many a longing 
glance at the opposite door as he went in and out of his 
own rooms, but never again did he encounter Lady 
Phyllis upon the landing, though his child paid periodical 
visits to his rooms, and pulled everything about until 
they were left in utter confusion, without any woman’s 
hand to rearrange them. 

Macnaughten was too proud to question Roy with 
regard to his wife. Never a word did he say to him 
about his mamma, but the little boy often mingled her 
name with his baby conversation. One morning, as he 
was sitting on Macnaughten’s knee, he looked up gravely 
and asked quite irrelevantly: 

“Why do my mamma ky ?” 

“Your mamma cry?” interrogated Macnaughten. 
“ But does she cry, Roy ? ” 

“’Es, ’es ! ” replied the boy, nodding his curly head, 
“ Mamma do; mamma ky when she and Roy in room, 
nighttime. Mamma go, boo I boo ! boo 1 ” said the child, 
trying to convey his idea of a woman’s weeping. 

This innocent remark on the part of Roy set Mac- 
naughten thinking. Why should Phyllis cry indeed, 
unless it were for the thought that she was chained to 
himself. She had nothing else to cry for. Youth, health, 
beauty, and money — she possessed all four; what more 
could she desire, unless it were her freedom. 


THE AFTERMATH. 


331 


I wish that I could give it her,” he thought to him’ 
self. Poor child, she is too young to look forward 
with complacency to a future without companionship 
or the real joys of home. If I had only been older and 
wiser and better fitted to have the charge of a woman, I 
might have prevented all this misery.” 

He went often to see his friends the Leytons, but he 
never told them of the strange chance that had brought 
him within a stone’s throw of his wife; and as the doctor 
had no time to pay visits in his non-professional capacity, 
he and Mrs. Leyton were never made aware of the fact. 
One afternoon, however, on returning to his rooms, 
Ronald Macnaughten encountered Lady Phyllis again. 
She had ascended half the staircase that led to their floor, 
and halted on the first landing to regain her breath. It 
was impossible to pretend not to have seen her. 

‘‘Been out for a walk ? Tired ?” he said nervously, as 
he came upon her. 

Phyllis flushed scarlet at the unexpected meeting. 

“ I am — a little,” she faltered. “ It is milder to-day; 
don’t you think so ?” 

“I don’t know. I have been in the City; it was cold 
enough there,” he answered. 

She was blocking up the gangway so that he could 
hardly pass without troubling her to move, so he waited 
until she should do so. Phyllis’ hands were full of 
violets — his favorite flower. He could not help noticing 
them. 

“What beautiful violets!” he said; “they smell 
delicious.” 

“Take them,” replied Lady Phyllis, holding them out 
to him, and then, seeing he hesitated, she added: 

“You need have no scruple. My rooms are full of 
them. Rose sent me a basket of them from Sedgeley 
yesterday. You used to love violets.” 

Macnaughten accepted the flowers with a grave “ Thank 
you ! ” and Phyllis commenced to ascend the remaining 
stairs. When she reached her own door, she paused for 
a moment and said timidly: 

“ Would you like to see my rooms — they are so 
pretty ? ” 


332 


AT HEART A RAKE. 


No, thank you, I won’t trouble you,” said Mac- 
naughten, but she interrupted him: 

‘^What nonsense! It is no trouble; and I should like 
you to see them.” Then, observing his hesitation, she 
added: “What is the good of pretending we are still 
friends, Ronald, if you won’t even enter my rooms. 
Come in and let me make you a cup of tea. Do you ever 
take afternoon tea now ? ” 

“No,” he answered curtly. 

“And you used to be such an old woman for your tea,” 
she said reproachfully. “Come then, and have a cup 
with me.” 

He told himself that he was a fool to yield to her 
persuasions, but Phyllis was pouting her mouth at him 
and looking from under her eyelashes in the old way; and 
after all, it is rather hard for a man to remain stoical 
when his lawful wl-fe is tempting him against his better 
judgment. 

“Very well,” he said suddenly, “I will.” 

She rung the bell, and they were admitted by the foot- 
man. 

“Bring tea into the drawing room, John,” said Lady 
Phyllis, as they entered, “and bring in the kettle. I 
wish to make the tea myself.” 

“Very good, ,my lady,” said John, wondering what 
new freak her ladyship had in her head now. 

“This way,” cried Phyllis gayly, as she passed through 
a portilre into the room beyond, which was draped in 
primrose color and scented heavily with violets. 

“ Now you can smell my Sedgeley violets,” she said; 
“and are not my rooms pretty? Sit down in that arm- 
chair and amuse yourself with those papers while I take 
off my bonnet.” 

She whisked away, as she spoke, into an inner room, 
leaving Macnaughten seated in the armchair and feeling 
very foolish at finding himself the guest of his own wife. 
He had half a mind to get up and run away before she 
returned, but she was too quick for him. In a few 
moments she was back again, leading Roy by the hand. 

“I don’t think the little boy can be quite well to-day,” 
she began; ‘‘he seems so dull and cross. Reynolds,” 


THE AFTERMATH. 


333 


she continued, to the servant who followed in her train, 
“ can he have eaten anything to disagree with him ? He 
seems quite feverish to me.” 

“No, my lady. He has had nothing but the dinner 
you ordered for him — a mutton chop and rice pudding.” 

“He seems very heavy,” said Phyllis, as she took the 
child upon her lap, “and his cheeks are burning. He 
must have taken cold.” 

“He didn’t loiter, my lady, and I only kept him out 
for an hour, as it came on colder when the sun went 
in.” 

“Poor little man !” said Phyllis, caressing the child. 
“Well, that will do, Reynolds. I will ring when he is 
ready to go back to the nursery.” The nurse, after a 
respectful courtesy to her master, withdrew to her own 
domains, just as John appeared with the tea. Lady 
Phyllis placed the child in his father’s arms, while she 
busied herself with the kettle and the teapot. As she 
handed a cup to Macnaughten, she said : 

“ There ! I would bet anything you have not had such 
a cup of tea as that since we — we — I mean, since I left 
off making it for you.” 

“ There are many things besides tea that I have had to 
give up since then, Phyllis,” replied Ronald. 

“Ah, well ! and so have I,” she rejoined, in a would-be 
airy tone; “but every blessing has its bane, you know. 
We can’t have it all our own way. Don’t you find that 
the advantages outweigh the disadvantages ? ” 

“ I would rather not discuss it,” he answered quietly, 
as he looked down at Roy, who had fallen asleep in his 
arms. 

“ You have grown very brown,” Lady Phyllis went on 
presently, as she looked at him; “that is the effect of 
your Norway trip, I suppose. By the way, you have 
never told me how you enjoyed it. Was it very delight- 
ful ? Did you meet any nice girls to flirt with? You 
won’t own to Mile. Lalage, but I suppose you have a 
^ mash ’ of some sort; eh, Ronald ? ” 

“Havejt??//” he said, in his quiet manner, as he raised 
his eyes to hers. 

Lady Phyllis colored up to the parting of her hair, 


334 


AT HEART A RAKE. 


Why, of course not ? That would be quite a dif- 
ferent thing.” 

“And why ? ” 

“Oh, I don’t know ! But you men are different from 
us. You never are faithful for long to anyone.” 

“That may be your opinion, Phyllis, but it is not 
necessarily correct. All men are not dishonorable or 
irreligious. I may not have proved myself to be a very 
estimable or lovable character in your eyes, but I 
have been faithful to you.” 

“And so have I to you.” 

“ I never questioned it. I should not have dreamed of 
mentioning the subject, had you not started it.” 

“Well, there is one comfort,” said Lady Phyllis; “so 
long as we are faithful and true to each other, there is 
no possible reason why we should not remain friends. 
You know I thought the separate establishment theory 
a mistake, Ronald.” 

“I remember you did.” 

“But since you considered it best, we need not go to 
the lengths of never seeing each other. I think it would 
be nice to have a cozy chat sometimes, or even to go to 
the theater together. Why not ? What is the obstacle ? ” 
asked Phyllis, with beaming eyes. 

But Macnaughten sat moody and troubled in his chair. 

“I have already told you, Phyllis, that it cannot be. I 
am afraid I have been foolish in coming here this after- 
noon. It cannot be agreeable for me to be waited on by 
your servants, while they do not recognize me as their 
master. Women never seem to think of such things, 
but men do. And it must be for the last time.” 

“Oh, no ! don’t say that,” replied Lady Phyllis, pulling 
down her lip, like a child about to cry, “ for it is so nice 
to see you sitting there like old times. Besides, it 
is selfish of you, because there are so many little things 
in which you could help me. A njan is always useful in 
a house.” 

“ Have you not innumerable friends to whom to go in 
an emergency ?” said her husband. “Why should you 
torture — I mean, trouble me. Cannot your lady friends 
advise you on these important topics.” 


THE AFTERMA TH, 


335 


^‘Perhaps so — only ” 

“ Only what ? ” 

‘‘I don’t care to go to them; they are not like — you 
were. No one can be so intimate, or know all about one, 
like a husband. There is so much to explain to strangers; 
and then, they don’t understand, somehow.” 

“ There are always difficulties in the formation of a new 
life,” replied Macnaughten, with apparent indifference. 
“ No rose, you know, without its thorn. And to balance 
it, you have the opportunity of hearing new ideas and 
gaining fresh information, instead of being dependent, day 
after day, upon the same old fount of knowledge. You 
must not be ungrateful, but weigh these advantages 
against the trifles you allude to.” 

“I know all that,” said Lady Phyllis petulantly, 
“only — only — when one comes home, there is no one to 
tell one’s new thoughts to, and it is so lonely,” she added 
pathetically. 

“Have a lady companion,” suggested Macnaughten, as 
he rose suddenly and put Roy off his lap, who thereupon 
began to cry. “ Then you can have a good talk together, 
whenever there is no one better at hand.” 

A lady companion!'' echoed Phyllis indignantly, as 
she caught up her weeping child. “ As if I would! The 
most obnoxious, mischief-making, interfering people in 
the world ! I should think you might suggest something 
better than that.” 

“ I was never bright enough for you in the olden times, 
remember,” he said, laughing, “so you cannot expect me 
to have improved by now. Good-by, Phyllis, and thanks 
for your hospitality,” and seizing his hat from a side table, 
Macnaughten flew to the sanctuary of his own rooms, 
feeling that he could not stand the interview any longer. 

Roy was still wailing, and Phyllis summoned Reynolds 
to take him away. How empty the room looked without 
either of them ! She tried to read and divert her thoughts, 
but she had never felt so lonely since she and Ronald had 
parted company. Had she been rash ? Ah ! had she been 
rash, and thrown all her happiness away — sold her birth- 
right for a mess of pottage, which had no power to stay 
the hunger of her heart ? She did not know, or she would 


336 


AT HEART A RAKE. 


not say — but she ended the evening by a prolonged fit of 
weeping, and retired early to bed. 

As she entered her room she found Reynolds in the 
adjoining apartment, bending anxiously over the cot 
which contained her boy. 

“Why are you here, Reynolds?” she inquired. 

“I don’t like the looks of Master Roy, my lady,” 
replied the nurse; “he is certainly feverish, and he gave 
a cough just now of which I did not quite like the sound — 
’twas terrible hard.” 

Phyllis, who knew nothing of children’s ailments, did 
not dream that there could be danger in a mere cough. 

. “ Why not give him a dose of syrup then, Reynolds ?” 
she said. 

“I’ll wait a little, if you please, my lady, and see if he 
coughs again.” 

But as the child appeared to be sleeping quietly, Reyn- 
olds after a while withdrew and left her mistress alone. 

Phyllis lay down, wakeful and uneasy. Her head ached 
from crying, and her eyes were swollen and inflamed. 
That one question would keep turning itself over and 
over in her brain — had she spoiled her whole life from 
over-rashness — would Ronald ever consent to make it up 
with her again ? 

As she was musing thus, toward the hour of one o’clock 
in the morning, she heard Roy commence to turn and 
toss in his little bed, and roused herself to say some 
soothing words to him. Her voice apparently waked him, 
and he gave a single cough. But such a cough ! Phyllis 
had never heard one like it in her life before — it sounded 
as if the child had coughed through a brazen trumpet. 

“Roy! Roy! my pet, what is the matter?” she ex- 
claimed, leaping from her bed and hastening to that of the 
child. But Roy was not awake. He was only turning 
restlessly in his sleep. His cheeks were crimson and 
burning hot — he had thrown the bedclothes off him — and 
his mother commenced at once to cover him up again. 
Her touch roused the child — he sat up suddenly in bed 
with an air of alarm — and then he gave another hollow 
cough, which seemed to resound through the apartments, 
and bursting into sobs threw out his arms before him and 


THE AFTERMATH. 


337 


battled fiercely with some unseen foe, while he appeared 
to be choking with his efforts to breathe. Phyllis was 
dreadfully alarmed — she threw on a dressing gown, and 
ran bare-footed to Reynolds’ room across the passage, 
and knocked violently at her door. 

“ Come quickly ! come quickly ! ” she cried. “ Master 
Roy is ill — I am dreadfully frightened about him.” 

The nurse was with her in another minute. 

‘‘Ah ! deary me ! it is as I feared, the blessed dear ! 
He has got the croup.” 

“ WhatV' cried Lady Phyllis, in a voice of terror. 

“The croup, my lady. We must get some hot water 
at once and put him in it.” 

“ Hot water ! ” said Phyllis despairingly, as the cough 
rang out again through the room, and poor little Roy 
battled the air with his hands in a vain endeavor to regain 
his breath, “at this time of night! Why, it will be an 
hour before it is ready.” 

“We can’t help that, my lady; we must put him into a 
hot bath as soon as possible. You stop by the sweet 
lamb, and I’ll wake up John and send him for the nearest 
doctor. We mustn’t lose time, my lady; these attacks 
often carry them off in an hour. I’ll get the hot water 
as soon as ever I can. ” 

And hurrying away, she left Lady Phyllis with her little 
son. 

The croup, the croup 1 What was the terrible memory 
that flooded her mind at the moment that she heard the 
word ? Ah, Mrs. Warrington ! with the trouble of her 
life. Her little son so like Roy, and the account she gave 
of him. “ A little walk — a little cough and fever — and in 
a few hours he was gone.” Mrs. Warrington had lost her 
child — she, who was so good and true to all — and how 
could she hope, Phyllis’ heart whispered to her, to keep 
her boy, when she had played so remorselessly with the 
happiness which God had given to her ? She worked her- 
self into a frenzy of grief and terror during the time she 
was left in charge of Roy, and the cough returned again 
and again to make the poor child fight for his life. She 
heard the manservant leave the flat in search of the 
doctor, but it seemed ages before Reynolds returned with 


338 


AT HEART A RAKE. 


the hot water for the bath; and just as she entered the 
room, Roy, who had been struggling with an unusually 
violent fit of coughing, suddenly fell back on his cot, 
black in the face and working in every limb. 

Good God ! ” cried the nurse, as she flew to his side, 
“he’s in convulsions. Oh, my poor lady! be prepared 
for the worst. He’s going, for sure. Oh ! my blessing! 
my dear lamb! ” 

She seized the convulsed infant in her arms, and held 
his shuddering limbs as still as she could. But Lady 
Phyllis stood by her side, silent and motionless. She 
had heard Reynolds’ words, she understood that the life 
of her boy was in imminent danger, was trembling on the 
brink, but yet she neither cried out nor spoke. She 
felt as if she were turned to stone, only one thought had 
power to stir her paralyzed brain ; Roy was going and 
his father was not present, did not know it ; might lose 
his cherished son without seeing him again. She did not 
wait to consider if her deed might be misinterpreted, but 
acted on the spur of the moment. 

“Reynolds!” she cried, in a suffocating voice, “he 
must not go without the master seeing him. I will fetch 
him.” 

She tore past the wondering maids, who had been 
roused by the general confusion and were whispering 
together in the passage, and, darting across the landing, 
knocked violently at the door of Ronald’s rooms. She 
did more than knock ; she hammered upon the panels so 
continuously that Macnaughten himself was alarmed, and 
thinking the premises were on fire threw on his dressing 
gown and appeared at the open door, simultaneously with 
his servant. 

“ Ronald ! Ronald ! ” cried Lady Phyllis breathlessly, 
“come at once, Roy is dying! Come and see him 
again.” 

There was no time or need for explanations. Those 
awful words, “ Roy is dying ! ” rang like a death-knell on 
the father’s heart, and pale as ashes he followed his wife 
back to her own apartments. There they found the 
nurse still supporting the child, and gazing with terror 
into his face. Roy had ceased to shudder and writhe. 


THE AFTERMATH. 


339 


but lay still and white as a broken lily, with his eyes fixed 
and his heart almost pulseless. 

“Have you hot water? Put him in a hot bath 
instantly,” exclaimed Macnaughten, and he took the boy 
in his own arms while Reynolds filled the bath for his 
reception. As Lady Phyllis saw her husband take com- 
mand as it were, and place the child in the bath himself, 
her self-control gave way and she knelt down on the 
ground, shaking with her grief. 

“Don’t despair, dear,” said Macnaughten, hardly 
knowing what he said, “ the doctor will be here immedi- 
ately. Children are often like this. See, the warm water 
has comforted him already ; he has ceased to shudder.” 

But still Phyllis knelt by her husband’s side, with her 
face hidden in her hands, weeping bitterly. 

“ He will die,” she murmured ; “ I know it, I feel it. 
It is a punishment on me for — for everything. My 
child is dying, I have thrown away my happiness — I had 
nothing left but him, and now I shall have nothing at all, 
nothing ! ” 

Macnaughten did not answer, but he stretched forth 
the hand which was unoccupied and laid it gently on the 
head of the young mother, who had bowed herself almost 
to the dust. 

The child now lay perfectly quiet. Macnaughten lifted 
him from the bath, and wrapping his body in a blanket 
held him across his knees, while he waited for the doctor’s 
verdict. But Lady Phyllis still knelt where he had left 
her, in utter despair. 

The terrible suspense was soon relieved by the entrance 
of Dr. Greene, bustling, cheery, and hopeful, though he 
had been pulled out of his bed at one o’clock in the morn- 
ing to attend an unknown patient. 

“ Why, why, why ! what is this ? ” he exclaimed, as he 
looked at the child lying on his father’s lap. “ A case of 
croup, followed by convulsions. Poor little fellow ! 
Well, we’ll soon set him all right. Have you some mus- 
tard, nurse, and some ipecacuanha wine ? That’s right. 
Now a teaspoon, and a compress for the little throat. Is 
it his first attack ? Ah, I supposed so, or you would have 
known better what remedies to employ.” And in a few 


340 


AT HEART A RAKE. 


minutes he had Roy in his cot again, with the mustard 
and compress applied, and sensible though very weak and 
sleepy. 

“ /y he dying V whispered rather than said Lady 
Phyllis, as she ventured to raise her head and watch what 
the doctor was doing. 

“ Dying ? ’’replied Dr. Greene. “ Nothing of the sort, 
madam. You will have to be careful of him for a while — 
very careful ; but a fine, strong child like this doesn’t 
die of his first attack of croup. He’ll be all right after a 
few hours’ rest, but I shouldn’t take him out till the 
weather is milder. It’s his stomach and the cold com- 
bined ; nothing to be frightened at. Now, nurse, do you 
quite understand what to do ? That is right, and you 
won’t leave him again to-night in case of the cough 
returning. Good-night, madam ; I’ll look in to-morrow 
morning and see how the little man goes on.” 

“And are you sure, quite sure, that he is safe ?” said 
Phyllis, turning up her pallid face to meet that of the 
doctor. 

“Quite sure for the present, and the future depends 
on yourself, madam,” he replied, as he gazed with interest 
on her lovely features. 

“ Oh, thank God ! thank God ! ” cried Lady Phyllis, as 
the doctor bowed himself from the room, and she sunk 
down upon her knees and hid her face once more within 
her hands. Suddenly she felt an arm thrown around her. 

“ Thank God, too ! ” said Ronald softly. “ What should 
we have done without our boy, Phyllis?” 

“ We^ who have lost each other,” she replied, weeping. 

“But have we lost each other, sweet wife ?” he whis- 
pered. ; “are you sure ? ” 

“ I have been so willful,” sighed Phyllis. 

“And I so determined to bend your will to mine.” 

“ But I was in the wrong, Ronald.” 

“And so was I — doubly so, since I had the stronger 
nature.” 

His arm was still round her ; it was so sweet to feel 
its warm, protecting clasp. 

So, creeping closer, their heads drew nearer to each 
other, and with their heads, their lips. 


THE AFTERMATH. 


341 


“ Can you forgive ? ” asked Phyllis humbly. 

“ Can you ? ” was all his answer. 

“ Yes,” with a deep-drawn sigh. “ I have done it long, 
long ago.” 

“ Then let us draw a sponge across the record once 
and forever, darling. I have been miserable without 
you.” 

And I — oh, so very, very wretched, Ronald \ ” 

Let us end it then, for Roy’s sake.” 

“ For Roy’s sake ! ” she murmured. 

For Roy’s sake, she turned her face toward his and 
opened wide her arms, and, for Roy’s sake, they loved 
each other forever afterward, without a break. 


THE END. 


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; X 


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AUTHOR OF “ DUST AND LAURELS.” 

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112 


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THE GREAT COLONIAL BRANCHES OF THE FIRM 

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113 


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A Love- Story 

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109 


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I Vol., i2mo, Extra Cloth, f i.oo. 


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110 


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GO FORTH AND FIND. 

By THOMAS H. BRAINERD. 

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THE CASSELL PUBLISHING CO., 

31 East 17th St. (Union Square), - New York. 

Ill 


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